


the world offers itself

by velteris



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, Love Live Big Bang 2016, eli is gay and does her best to be strong in the face of that, probably actual bird koots, well it's heavily implied nozomaki and gently implied honoumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2016-11-10
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:48:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 35,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8503048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velteris/pseuds/velteris
Summary: Otonokizaka’s last royal ruler died 900 years ago, leaving the Ayase Seneschals to guard the throne. The gods haven’t spoken since. But on the eve of Eli’s traditional journey to search for the true ruler before her coronation, her prayer is answered by an angel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Love Live Big Bang 2016, with my artist partner yuyurialyusia - find both of us on tumblr under the same username!

The touch of blessed oil against her forehead was cold; it sent a shiver down her spine. She felt the priest trace the sigil of Clio on her skin.

“May the gods watch over you,” the priest whispered. Her voice was frayed with age, but her tone was kind. “May your pilgrimage be successful. And if the rightful ruler does not take the throne, may you guard it well in their place.”

Eli opened her eyes slowly. Incense smoke swirled thick through the air of the throne room, and the ceremonial flames lining the room seemed to sway strangely. “Thank you, Mother,” Eli replied, her own voice cracking with disuse from her long vigil.

Benedictions over, the priest bowed with a smile and departed silently, followed by her train of attendants. Eli was left kneeling in front of the throne, alone.

Somewhere in the floors above, Alisa was blowing out her candle and creeping into bed, small in the darkness. She’d slipped into Eli’s bed the last few nights, as if they were children again, and Eli had shushed her worries away and hummed her to sleep.

Further up in her offices, Eli’s grandmother was reading through bequests and charters, ensuring all was in order for Eli to take her place. The former Seneschal’s candle would burn into the early hours of the morning. Changing rulers was never easy.

Behind the castle, in the burial grounds dedicated to Otonokizaka’s rulers, the spring flowers were starting to come in around her parents’ final resting places. It had been two long, lonely years since Eli’s grandmother had stepped out of retirement to rule until Eli came of age.

Night lingered at the edges of the windows, muffling the country. The castle sat silent around Eli. Her vigil would end at dawn.

Eli shifted from knee to knee, wincing as they popped. Her throat was dry and her stomach empty, the lingering chill from winter searched for openings in her ceremonial clothes, and she hadn’t slept out of nerves since two nights ago.

She felt nothing like the next ruler of her country.

“Gods, help me,” Eli whispered into the silence.

As expected, there was no response.

With a groan, Eli levered herself to her feet. She may as well keep herself awake by walking around the throne room. Though the vigil was tradition and she would observe it out of respect for all the Seneschals before her, there was no rule saying she had to pray the entire time.

“It’s not like anyone would answer,” Eli mumbled to herself as she paced, rubbing goosebumps off her arms. She glanced at the murals of the heavens around the throne room. After all, for nine hundred years, no god had answered their prayers. Not since the death of the last King of Otonokizaka.

But now was the last time Eli would step foot in her home as Eli Ayase, whose future wasn’t yet locked in stone. The next time she returned, she would be Seneschal Eli, the regent waiting for a heaven-chosen monarch who would never appear.

So Eli closed her eyes and dreamed.

A quiet life, where the person who sat on the throne was everything a rule should be, unlike Eli. Where the King or Queen wielded magic enough to equal Otonokizaka’s enemies’, unlike Eli. Where Eli’s parents had never had to sacrifice their lives on the hungry pyre of Otonokizaka’s needs, like Eli likely would -

Where Eli would never have to shoulder her family’s mantle and her country’s fate -

Eli dragged in a sharp breath at the direction of her thoughts. No. No, no, no. That was too much to ask, too disrespectful to everything the Ayases had fought for. She had been born and trained for this duty, and she would not shirk now.

She jammed the heels of her palms against her eyes. Light smears danced across her eyelids as she rubbed, trying to drive the dreams away.

Her eyes ached. Eli pulled her hands away and blinked, confused, when that didn’t drive the light smears away. Why was it so bright?

The light flared, eclipsing the fires and burning away the shadows. Heat like a summer’s sun suddenly beat down on Eli’s back. She shouted in surprise and spun, shielding her eyes out of instinct.

A fissure in the world. A roaring like the wind, the same way a puddle was like a sea. Light, bright and white. Feathers.

Then Eli’s world went blissfully dark.

* * *

Eli lurched upright, gasping. Faint spots of light still swam in her vision. “What,” she wheezed, whipping her head from side to side, staring wildly, because she _knows_ what she saw - thinks she saw - except it’s impossible, because in nine hundred years, no one’s seen -

“U-um,” said a frightened voice, clear as bells. “A-are you alright?”

“ _…an angel,_ ” breathed Eli.

Crouched beside her was a woman dressed in white. Her eyes were gold, her hair silvery-ash; her skin was pale, as if she had never stepped under the sun. And arcing up behind her were enormous, white wings, bristling with long feathers.

The wings twitched. A wisp of air ruffled Eli’s bangs.

Real.

With a yelp, she shot to her feet and jumped backwards; the angel squeaked and flinched back from Eli too. Utterly ridiculous, considering one of them was a lowly human and the other was a divine messenger from heaven with giant wings. And yet, the angel looked just as - if not more - scared than Eli.

Eli’s tongue sat mute in her mouth. Had she been struck dumb by seeing more than what was meant for mortal eyes?

“ _Um,_ ” the angel said, sounding faintly desperate. “S-sorry, I’m probably scaring you. Oh! I forgot to say, do not fear! I’m not here to hurt you, I promise.”

“…alright,” Eli eventually croaked. She could have slapped herself. Nine hundred years, and these were the first words the heavenly representative heard.

She had to do this right.

Eli swallowed, then bent forward into a kneel. “I am Eli Ayase, the Heir of the Seneschal of Otonokizaka, at your service,” she said, head bowed. “Messenger of the gods, why have you come? What do you need of me?”

“I-I’m Kotori?” said the angel. Eli couldn’t see her face, but she sounded decidedly confused. “I was hoping to find out… um… Eli, right? I have a question.”

Nothing too important. Right. “Whatever you need, I will provide if I can,” Eli said, doing her best to keep her voice steady. What kind of questions did the gods have for her?

“Oh, good.” The angel - Kotori - sounded relieved. “Could you please tell me where the King is?”

“…the King?” Eli repeated. She looked up at Kotori, disbelieving.

“Or was it the Queen?” Kotori muttered, her feathers ruffling agitatedly. “Whoever’s the current ruler of the kingdom.”

“There’s… there’s no King or Queen of Otonokizaka.” Never had Eli had to explain this to someone before. And wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Shouldn’t the gods’ messenger be telling her who the ruler was? “Just the Seneschal. My grandmother. And me,” she added.

Kotori went very still. Her wings seemed to shrink as her feathers flattened; she seemed half as tall without their imposing stature. “But shouldn’t the gods have chosen…”

“They haven’t,” Eli said, filling in the silence Kotori left. “Not since the Hungry King was killed nine hundred years ago. You’re the first divine being we’ve seen since then.”

No response. Kotori had definitely heard Eli, but she seemed to have gone even paler, if that were possible. Afraid of breaching protocol, yet worried, Eli couldn’t help asking, “Are you alright?”

Kotori shook her head silently, then nodded. “Yes. I’m fine, thank you.” She turned away to gaze at the murals of the heavens that walled the throne room, eyes a thousand miles away.

Left floundering in silence, Eli pushed down the urge to fidget. She didn’t want to be the first to speak. No one remembered the protocol for interacting with divine beings, after all, and she wasn’t about to be the first to make a faux pas. But that left Eli with nothing to do but to watch Kotori.

Now that the adrenaline had worn off, Eli couldn’t help but notice what she hadn’t before: how beautiful Kotori was. Nothing less from divine beings, of course - the records they still had all mentioned the gods’ unearthly, terrible splendour - but this somehow wasn’t what Eli expected. Kotori stood almost half a head shorter than Eli herself; and she wasn’t so much awe-inspiring beauty as… charming. A sweet face, and soft eyes. Approachable, almost.

Kotori was also shivering. Her feathers were ruffled up against the cold; Eli could only imagine what the stone tiles felt like against her bare feet.

Before her mind caught up with her actions, Eli was unbuckling her cloak, approaching with slow steps. Kotori caught sight of her out of the corner of her eye and half-turned.

“You should, uh, probably be wearing more layers,” Eli tried to explain. Heat threatened to creep up the back of her neck. “It’s only early spring. The nights are still winter’s.” What was she doing?

Just as Eli was about to back away and start apologising profusely, Kotori said, “Thank you,” and gave her a small smile. She took Eli’s cloak and wrapped it awkwardly around her shoulders; it rucked up where her wings met her shoulderblades, almost like a very wide scarf.

It looked so disarmingly helpless that Eli felt compelled to again offer her help - but Kotori spoke first.

“Sorry,” Kotori said. She wrapped her arms around her torso with an embarrassed smile. “I’m not too sure what to do right now. I’ve never been to the human world before, you see.”

“I see,” Eli said slowly. Kotori scratched her cheek.

“A-and I’ve been a little isolated from the other gods for a while,” she added. “So forgive me for not knowing a lot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Eli said, then winced. Would Kotori think she was trying to patronise her? But Kotori didn’t seem offended. If anything, she seemed a little relieved.

“I’m glad you’re the first human I met,” Kotori said. Her smile was a little brighter. “It must have been fate that I found such a helpful person.”

Fate. Eli’s attention snapped back to her predicament. “Forgive me for being forward, but I need to know: are you here to guide me to the true ruler?”

“…That depends,” said Kotori.

“On what?” Eli asked, thoroughly baffled.

“On… on why you want to find the ruler.” Kotori’s wings shifted as she clasped her hands in front of her. She watched Eli intently, waiting for her answer.

Oh. This must be a test of some sort. Eli straightened and said, “Because it is my duty as the next Seneschal to watch over the throne, so that it may be returned to its rightful owner when they return. You’re right - it must be fate that you came now, the night before I start my search. If you tell me where the next ruler is, then I will find them and guide them safely back. Otonokizaka’s throne has been empty long enough.”

Something like betrayal tinged the last sentence, a bitter taste lingering on the back of her tongue. It surprised Eli. She hadn’t thought of her country as being wronged by the gods until now - but here was real proof that the gods still existed, that they could still reach the mortal plane. So why hadn’t they made a move until now?

“Hmm,” said Kotori. She cocked her head. Under her stare, Eli felt exposed; could Kotori tell if Eli was keeping something from her? For a moment, Eli’s quiet fears about her own right to rule threatened to overflow, but Eli bit them down. Those would shortly be irrelevant if the rightful ruler could be found.

Abruptly, Kotori asked, “Do you know how the gods find the ruler?”

If this was a test, then Eli had probably just failed. “…Am I supposed to?” she hedged.

This seemed to amuse Kotori. Her smile turned coy. “I don’t know, are you?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t,” Eli admitted. “There aren’t any records of how rulers are found. And since every Seneschal’s pilgrimage has failed so far, I thought mine would too. Until you appeared, that is.”

“Those fit to rule have latent power in them.” Kotori splayed her fingers in vague gestures. Her hands were slim and small. “The gods sense that, and unlock it in those worthy. Not that I’ve personally been involved in choosing who’s worthy.” Kotori shrugged. “I’m just a messenger.”

“Then you know who is worthy?”

“Sadly, no.”

“Oh.” Eli floundered. “Then,” she tried, scrabbling for understanding, “why are you here?”

Kotori locked her fingers back together in front of her, and smiled at Eli. “Because when I see them, I’ll know them by the mark the gods put on them,” she said. “If I’m not asking too much, may I accompany you on your pilgrimage, Heir of the Seneschal? Guide me through the human world, and if all goes well, Otonokizaka will have its ruler when you return.”

When she thought about it, she really didn’t have a choice to make. Duty was duty.

“It would be my honour,” Eli declared, and bowed deep.


	2. Chapter 2

“Nico.” Eli rapped insistently at the door. “Nico, are you awake?”

An extended groan of despair floated out of the room.

“I guess so,” Eli said, and let herself in.

Nico’s room was small but well lived in, decorated with trophies and little tokens her siblings liked to sneak in. She’d clawed her way up from nondescript foot soldier to self-descript knight of the Royal Guard in the years since she’d won her first tournament and demanded a position in the Guard as her reward. Denied, of course, but Nico always got her way in the end, no matter how hard she had to work for it. Quite the jump in station for the daughter of a maid.

Eli could think of few others who had as many embarrassing childhood stories of Eli - and few others who she trusted more.

The knight in question made another pathetic whine as she stuck one arm out of her blanket pile, flopping it in protest at Eli. “It’s not even dawn,” grumbled Nico. “Eli, why?”

“Change of plans. Come on, Nico, get up. We need to talk.”

One more moment of reluctant squirming later, Nico heaved a long-suffering sigh and wormed her way out of the blankets. “Well? What were you thinking about all night?” she said as she settled cross-legged on her bed. Despite her sour tone and her world-weary airs, her eyes were sharp and alert. Nico wasn’t the premier knight of the realm and Eli’s closest ally for nothing.

No point beating around the bush. “You’re not going to come with me,” blurted Eli.

Nico’s eyes narrowed.

In a blink, she was on her feet, head tilted up to glare at Eli. “What do you mean I’m not coming with you?” she said, low and dangerous.

It took every scrap of Eli’s willpower not to flinch back from her. Eli did her best to channel her grandmother’s most severe, obey-me look. “Exactly that,” she said. “And I’m not taking any of the other knights either. I’ll leave by myself today, and- “

“Damn it, Eli!” Nico threw her arms up in the air and started pacing. “You can’t just do that! Travelling with just one guard is one thing, travelling alone is another. You’re too important to just do whatever you want!”

Before Nico properly worked herself up, Eli interrupted. “First of all, I’m not going to be travelling by myself. Second of all, I’m going to go in disguise. I’ll just be one more traveller. And third of all, I need you to do something else for me.”

Nico came to a stop in front of Eli and crossed her arms. “What?” she said suspiciously.

Now this was the hard part.

Eli cleared her throat and pushed Nico’s door open a little wider. In walked Kotori, wings carefully tucked away under Eli’s cloak. It looked a little like she was wearing a pack under it. Her hair was still ruffled from their struggle to hide the wings.

Kotori bobbed her head in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Nico,” she said with an anxious smile.”

Nico stared. “What in the- “

“Her name is Kotori,” Eli rushed to cut Nico off before she said something  blasphemous. “Nico, I need you to fit out a packhorse with gear for just the two of us, then take it and Kotori outside the city walls. Wait for me at the old mill. I’ll catch up once I’m done with the ceremony here. After we leave, you can… go back to the city, or use some of your holiday leave, I don’t mind. But don’t tell anyone about Kotori, and don’t let anyone see her.”

“…Who is she?” Nico peered at Kotori, as if her place of origin was coded in the nervous hunch of her shoulders. “And what’s with all the cloak and dagger? It’s not like you, you know. And it’s not my usual line of work either.”

“I can’t say,” Eli said honestly. “But you’re the only one I can trust with this, Nico.”

That was what they’d agreed on. Though she never said it outright, Kotori seemed uncomfortable with travelling in a large group, or being publicly recognised as a divine messenger.

Eli had agreed for her own reasons. Namely: how would the people react? Best-case scenario, they hailed the herald of the true ruler, which would be a hassle to try and travel in. Worst-case scenario, they lashed out against Kotori for abandoning them. That was a topic Eli hadn’t tried to broach yet - but the secrets of gods were surely heavier than those of mortals.

And if, just in case, they couldn’t find the ruler after letting Kotori’s presence be known everywhere… Eli shuddered at the thought.

So it would be just the two of them.

“Treat her with all the courtesy you would treat my family with. … _Actually_ ,” Eli amended as Nico opened her mouth, sarcasm practically rolling off her, “please, please treat her better than you’d treat me.”

“Oh, ha ha.”

“I mean it, Nico. This is… really, really important.”

Nico rolled her eyes. “Only the greatest Knight Nico will do, I guess,” she sighed. But she thumped her fist to her heart, saluting Eli; and Eli knew there was no one whose loyalty she could rely on more.

“Thank you,” Eli said, a long breath of relief drawing out the last syllable. Nico’s self-assured grin never failed to ease some of her fears. (Even if, other times, it added more fear.)

“Alright then,” Nico said, clapping her hands briskly. “I’ve got work to do, and you’ve got your fancy ceremony, so shoo. No, not you - “ addressed to Kotori, who made to follow her sole human contact so far; Kotori jumped. “ - you stay. Brought any luggage with you?”

“Um, no…”

“ _Courtesy, Nico.”_

“Yeah, yeah. Ugh, looks like I need to find you some decent travelling clothes too, then… good thing you’re short, it’s easier to hem than it is to add length…”

If the heavens sent down droughts as retribution for the disrespect, Eli would personally sacrifice Nico at the altar as an offering, outlawed dark rituals be damned.

As she turned to close Nico’s door on the way out, Eli paused as Nico called, “Oh, and Eli?”

“Hm?”

“I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Eli did, too.

* * *

The send-off was quiet and informal, just as Eli had wanted. Just Alisa, her grandmother, and a few of the closer castle staff. The latter fussed over Eli, adjusting her clothes just so, triple-checking her weapons before handing them to her. The royal baker pressed biscuits secretively into her hands.

“Just if you get homesick, ma’am,” she whispered with a kind smile. “And if you see Honoka, won’t you remind her to let poor Umi rest?”

In the presence of others, Alisa kept her own tears back, but her farewell hug pressed wrinkles into Eli’s clothes. “Come back soon, Eli,” she said shakily into Eli’s shoulder. “Be careful.”

Eli didn’t trust her voice not to quiver. She made a small sound of agreement and rested her cheek on Alisa’s soft hair, silvery in the dawn light. It would only make it worse if Eli told them now it would be the most meticulous search any Seneschal had conducted in centuries.

Well into her twilight years, the Lady Seneschal nevertheless cut an imposing figure. She stood as straight as if the cane in her hand was but a useless accessory. Grey-white hair wreathed her face, but her eyes were sharp as clear-cut ice. Stepping out of retirement and back into the role of Seneschal was as easy as breathing to her.

And yet, when Eli looked at her, all she could see was her beloved grandmother: who had sat beside Eli in the dark until she fell asleep, at whose knee Eli had recited her family history with all the graveness of a five year old, who had showed Eli how to weave flower crowns and make toffees for Alisa…

Eli’s grandmother was smiling at her now. Without another word, she opened her arms, and Eli stepped forward into her tight embrace.

“Remember, Elichka,” Eli’s grandmother murmured, too soft for anyone but Eli to hear. “This is your journey and yours alone. Savour it. Take your time. We’ll be here.”

It was Eli’s turn to close her eyes against their burning. She mustn’t cry, she mustn’t cry - “I’ll do my best,” she swore. Eli’s grandmother shook with quiet chuckles.

“If you try any harder, I’m afraid there won’t be anything left of you.” With a shared sigh, they pulled apart. Eli’s grandmother laid one wrinkled hand along Eli’s cheek, looking at her fondly. “My beautiful girl… I look forward to seeing the woman who returns.”

Wordless, Eli nodded, dashing her hand across her eyes. Eli’s grandmother patted her comfortingly. Then her soft smile turned sly, and she added, “That includes your companions, Elichka. You seemed to have an eventful night.”

_Wait. Did she -  
_

Before Eli could unstick her tongue, Eli’s grandmother was gone, sweeping imperiously over the threshold into the castle.

Eli wasn’t allowed back in until she declared her journey over.

Damn.

Oblivious, Alisa gave Eli one more hug before tearing herself away, following their grandmother. She had her own duties to attend to as the new heir. Eli watched the distance between her and her family widen; the stretch of their bonds weighed on her as heavily as her duty did. When they were gone, she sighed and shouldered her pack more comfortably.

Just one more detour to make.

Lady Seneschal Natalya’s tombstone was pristine; the caretaker, though getting on in years, tended every grave diligently. The grave beside it was empty. No prayers here would reach Jin Ayase. Still, Eli brushed her thumb over the proud letters to make sure they were clean.

“I’m leaving now, mother,” she said quietly. “Wish me luck, father. I’ll do us proud.”

Then she was off.

* * *

At dawn, most of the city was still asleep; the earliest risers, sleep still smeared in their eyes, only nodded at Eli as she passed by alone. She nodded back from under her hood. No one would expect the Heir of the Seneschal to be dressed in plain travel leathers and on foot, but it didn’t hurt to be safe. 

It didn’t take long for Eli to pass out of the city gates. She left the main road immediately, heading left towards the agreed meeting spot, following the faint tracks of foot- and hoof-prints in the soft turf. 

As agreed, Nico was waiting in front of the run-down mill, running through a set of sword drills. The packhorse nosed its way along the riverbank peacefully. Eli sped up until she was within earshot; Nico looked up. 

“Where’s - “

“Up there,” Nico said, flicking her sword-tip at the mill. “Said she wanted to see what the weather’s like. You sure found a strange one, Eli. She didn’t know what size clothes she was, and she said she didn’t want to change until you got here, either.” An eyebrow waggle.

Eli flushed. “It’s nothing like that. I just met her.”

“Whatever. She kept asking me questions the whole way, too. And to top it all off, the horse doesn’t like her.”

Eli laughed nervously, thinking of Kotori’s wings, painstakingly tucked away. The horse was probably wise to be wary.

Nico sheathed her sword and clapped Eli hard on the shoulder. “Well, she’s all yours now,” Nico said wryly. “Good luck. And stay safe. It would suck if you died to bandits or food poisoning or something.”

“You’re not the only knight here, you know,” Eli said, trying and failing to keep the pout out of her voice.

Nico puffed out her chest and her cheeks indignantly. “Please, like you’ve ever beaten me in a fight. Like _anyone’s_ ever beaten me in a fight.”

Rather than say anything that might inflate Nico’s ego even more, Eli sighed and took the proffered hug. After a few seconds, Nico squirmed, and Eli let her go reluctantly.

“Enjoy your holiday,” Eli said with an affectionate pat to Nico’s head. Nico glared.

“Enjoy yours,” she shot back.

A quick and informal goodbye, minimal fuss. Classic Nico. Eli watched her saunter away, hand resting loosely on her sword hilt; she rounded the bend around a copse of trees - was gone.

Which left Eli alone with a divine messenger doing who-knows-what in a rundown mill.

The packhorse looked up as she approached; its big liquid eyes watched Eli with mild curiosity. Eli patted it on the neck. “Nice to meet you,” she said to the velvet nose stretched towards her.

The packhorse replied with a whuff of grassy horse-breath. Greetings done, it returned to its patch of grass, barely flicking an ear as Eli rummaged through its load.

Armed with an armful of clothes that were hopefully Kotori’s size, Eli scaled the steps of the watermill, making plenty of noise to warn Kotori of her approach.

“Eli?” Kotori’s voice floated down the narrow stairwell.

“Yes, it’s me.” Eli had something else prepared to say - something about their route, perhaps - but what she saw left her speechless. 

Kotori sat in front of the windmill’s small window, wings free and spread to their utmost, nearly twice Eli’s arm span. Behind her, Eli’s cloak lay folded neatly in a square. The light streaming through the window lit up the white feathers, luminescent as a full moon.

Kotori turned to face Eli, wings shrinking back down to fold against her back. The change was too big; it had to be at least part magic, or some godly trick. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “It was just… well, a little cramped. I’m not used to keeping them so small. And once they were out, I couldn’t get them back in.”

“Oh,” said Eli, barely registering the words. The play of morning light over Kotori’s pale skin and pale feathers was mesmerising; and the odd gold glint of her eyes was brighter now night had passed.

With a start, Eli realised she was staring - and Kotori was staring straight back too, head tilted in curiosity. “I-I brought you clothes,” Eli managed, holding out her bundle. Be calm, be collected… “From the horse. I heard the horse doesn’t like you.”

“Unfortunately” sighed Kotori, taking the clothes from Eli. Their fingers brushed. Eli nearly flinched, but hid it before Kotori could notice; she was expecting… something… from touching a being from the heavens. But Kotori’s hand felt just like a human’s, slightly cool in the morning chill.

As Eli turned her back to wait for Kotori to change, Kotori mournfully recounted her encounter with the horse. “It was the first time I’ve seen an animal, not just heard about it. He was much bigger than I thought! I wanted to touch him, but he rolled his eyes at me. Nico made me walk on the other side of her; she said - um. Eli?”

Eli resisted the urge to turn around and check. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can wear this…”

“Why?” Eli said instantly, imagining a hundred reasons why it would be inappropriate to make a divine messenger dress in no-doubt inferior clothes. The journey had barely started, and she’d already made a mistake, hadn’t prepared well enough -

“I can’t fit my wings in.”

Then again, nobody could possibly prepare for a journey like this.


	3. Chapter 3

“Right now, we’re here.” Eli tapped a finger on the map, then drew a wide arc. “If it’s alright, I’d like to travel along the southern border, where it’s warmer. The towns are farther apart, but they’re bigger. We’d have a better chance of finding the ruler there.”

She darted a glance at Kotori while explaining. Her companion was studying the map intensely, brow furrowed and mouth pursed in concentration. She nodded with every sentence Eli said.

“And if we don’t find them there, then we can cross the river - here - and move north, up to the mountains. I have a friend. She can… well, help us look.” More like See. Eli hadn’t seen Nozomi in a few years now, not since the Seers had spirited her away to their temple to foster her talent. It was important work - but Eli wanted her best friend more than she wanted accurate visions of the past, present and future when they were burying her mother. 

Shaking off her drifting thoughts, Eli turned to Kotori. “Not that I don’t trust your abilities,” she added quickly. “But we can only spend so much time searching before I have to go back. This is the most efficient way I can think of.”

Kotori only hummed, tilting her head this way and that, as if the map would suddenly sprout a third dimension if she looked hard enough. Eli ventured, “Is this route acceptable.”

A few seconds later, Kotori looked up. “I have no idea where any of this is,” she confessed with a bashful smile. Her hands wrung lightly in the way Eli was starting to recognise as Kotori’s nervous tell. “So I’ll trust you to lead us! I’ll be in your care, Eli.”

Normally, Eli would have been annoyed with somebody not giving their own opinion, but Kotori was innocent in the ways of the world through and through. She hadn’t even seemed to know how to handle the pocketknife Eli gave her for a last resort weapon, holding it awkwardly until Eli had given in and showed her how to tuck it into her new belt.

But it wasn’t Kotori’s pure inexperience that made Eli duck her head and mumble yes, same for her, she’d be in Kotori’s care too. It was the look of faith Kotori gave her - the steady confidence in Eli’s reliability, despite having known each other for less than a day.

And she hadn’t even known what Otonokizaka’s Seneschals were.

Eli rolled the map back up, tucked it away into her bag, and stood. Little remained of their lunch: Kotori had asked the name of every piece of food, and tried to eat it all. She packed an incredible amount away for being so slight and taking such small bites.

Kotori wrapped Eli’s cloak back around her shoulders. Though they had cut slits in her new clothes for her wings, they still needed to be covered up. She was getting much faster at it, though.

“Shall we?” asked Eli, holding a hand out to Kotori. Kotori accepted gladly. The pressure of her hand on Eli’s was light but warm from the morning’s walk.

“Let’s,” agreed Kotori, and they set off.

Kotori’s curiosity was boundless. She pointed out animals, objects, buildings (”Eli, is that a sheep? Ohhh, it looks so _soft!”_ “Eli, can we take some of the fruit? No? Ah, no, I didn’t realise it’d be stealing - nevermind!”), whatever caught her interest. Eli answered her patiently each and every time.

And it was infectious: when Kotori cooed at a flower bush coming into blossom, Eli looked at it with new eyes, even though the same species was planted all around the castle. When Kotori admired a flock of birds turning on the wing, Eli found herself entranced by the sight, too. When Kotori stretched her legs into the sunshine, sighing as it warmed her, Eli did the same to humor her - and then revelled in the simple feeling.

As they exchanged more and more words, Eli found her formality melting away under Kotori’s relentless cheer. And, gods help her, she couldn’t remember why she’d needed it in the first place.

It wasn’t until the sun was dipping towards the horizon and they were approaching the first town that Eli remembered with a start why she was journeying to begin with.

“Do you, uh, sense anything?” she asked Kotori. Strangely, horribly, she found herself hoping Kotori didn’t, so the journey wouldn’t be over so soon.

“No,” Kotori said thoughtfully, and Eli squashed her relief with quick brutality. “I should be able to feel them if they were in this town, but not much farther out than this. It looks like we’ll need to look a little farther.”

“We can do that tomorrow,” Eli decided. Despite how pleasant the walk was, the previous night’s vigil was taking a toll on her. Her limbs hung heavy with tiredness.

They were lucky. The town boasted three inns, the best of which still had several rooms available. Eli paid in silver - with a silent prayer of thanks to Nico, who had thoughtfully converted it from the royal gold coins - and the innkeeper was immediately all smiles, showing them the way to two rooms on the top floor.

The rooms were small but well-furnished: thick mattresses, a pile of blankets, tall wardrobes for those staying longer, and most importantly to Eli, a basin of gently steaming water and a washcloth.

“We can clean up and head downstairs for dinner,” Eli said to Kotori, dropping her pack and sword belt onto the floor with a relieved sigh. “Would you be alright with an early start tomorrow? I’d like to visit the markets and pick up some other things.” Since she was here, Kotori may as well experience better human food than travelling hardtack and beef jerky.

“That sounds lovely.” Kotori hesitated, looking around the room. Eli didn’t notice, thinking the conversation over, and too busy scrubbing the day’s travel dirt away with the washcloth, until Kotori said in a small voice, “Well, bye.”

Eli turned, but the door was already swinging shut behind Kotori. Had she done something wrong?

Kotori didn’t mention anything when they rejoined outside, though; once again, she was all smiles, leaving no room for Eli to delicately ask. She immediately led the way down to the common dining room. Food called, and they answered.

And what a summons it was: thick lamb casserole, fluffy bread, buttered potatoes, and fresh-pressed juice. Eli waved away offers of drinks. She had the feeling that an intoxicated divine messenger was something best witnessed in private. 

Once or twice, the inn’s patrons did a double-take at the sight of Kotori. Inwardly, Eli agreed with them; she was stunningly beautiful, and dressed like a noble in Eli’s cloak and the castle’s best travelling clothes to top it off. Outwardly, Eli gave them her best glower. Drunkards with poor pick-up lines were the last impressions of humans Eli wanted to give Kotori.

Thankfully, Kotori was oblivious. She avoided talking too much and exposing her ignorance in the busy room, but she stared around with wide eyes, taking in every detail of human life. Eli could practically hear the questions being fired at her as soon as they went back upstairs.

When Eli pushed her bowl away at last with a satisfied sigh, the night’s drinking was just getting into full swing; but Eli’s eyelids were drooping, and Kotori was nodding every so slightly. She looked up with relief when Eli pushed back her chair.

“Bedtime, I think,” Eli said, and offered her hand to Kotori. Kotori hesitated - then carefully grasped Eli’s hands with both of hers, looking at Eli seriously.

A snort escaped Eli. “Sorry,” she muttered, shaking the grin away. “It’s just manners. Holding a hand out for a lady to take, so she can get up from her seat easily.”

“Doesn’t that mean that I should be holding a hand out for you too?” Kotori pointed out.

“No, I’m not… well, I am a lady too, but I’m not that kind of…” People were starting to glance at them, so Eli hurriedly said, “I’ll explain upstairs. Let’s go?”

Kotori gave her a dubious look, not entirely convinced of this lady business, but stood obligingly. She trailed behind Eli like a duckling following its mother, both hands still on Eli’s one, as Eli forged her way through the crowded room and up the stairs.

Once safely ensconced in Kotori’s room, Eli sat cross-legged on the floor as Kotori perched on the bed. “I am a lady, since I’m of noble birth and a female,” Eli explained, “but you outrank basically everybody in this world since you’re, well, a divine being. So as far as etiquette goes, I should be the one helping you up.”

Kotori considered this with a heavy frown. Then she said, “But I don’t need help getting out of a chair. I can do that myself.”

This was going to be harder than expected.

By the time Eli finished giving Kotori a rundown on the basic do’s and don’t’s around humans, the candles had burned down to stubs. Even the clatter downstairs had started to die down.

“We should be getting to sleep,” Eli said, heaving herself upright with a sigh. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Kotori. Call me if you need anything - I’ll be right next door.”

Kotori’s fascinated face dropped. She nodded silently, gaze downcast. Eli paused. “Is something wrong?” she tried tentatively.

“I’m sorry to be a bother bout I don’t like being alone when I sleep and especially not when I can’t see an easy way into the sky,” Kotori spilled in a rush. “Could I stay in your room, please? I promise I’ll be quiet…”

Eli blinked. Her hesitation seemed to encourage Kotori, who looked up and grasped Eli’s sleeve. “Please?” she said again, eyes round and piteous.

That look was definitely some kind of divine power.

Eli pinched the bridge of her nose, then nodded in mute agreement. It was best if she didn’t think about the fact that she was about to sleep next to a literal angel. That had to be breaking _so many rules of nature._

With brisk efficiency, Eli gathered up Kotori’s blankets and pillow, lumping them over her shoulder. “Bring your bag over,” Eli said, muffled by the bedding draped over her. “We’re only staying one night so we’d better keep all our things together.”

Kotori brightened. She plucked the bag off the floor and the pillow off Eli’s precariously balanced pile, then danced ahead to open the door. One of the patrons was coming up the stairs with swaying steps; he stared at their small procession. Eli forced herself to glare back. Wisely, he moved along.

“You should take the bed,” Eli said as she knelt, inspecting the floor with a critical eye for a good place to set down her bedding. “It’s more comf - “

Feathers rustled. Eli looked up.

Kotori perched on top of the room’s wardrobe, peering down at Eli with befuddled eyes. “Where are you putting my blankets?” she asked, head tipped to one side.

“…On the floor, so I can sleep on it,” Eli said slowly. “Why are you on the wardrobe?”

“…So I can sleep on it?”

They stared at each other, utterly confused. “But the bed,” Eli said.

Kotori looked from Eli to the piece of furniture Eli was pointing at. “What are you supposed to do with that?”

“Sleep on it?”

The look Kotori gave the bed was as if she were examining an exotic new species. “That’s an awful lot of space just to sleep on,” she said pensively.

Feeling like an absolute fool, Eli dropped the bedding at the end of the bed and kicked off her boots. She stretched out on the bed stiffly. “Like this,” she said.

Explaining human etiquette was one thing. Demonstrating how to use a bed was another entirely. 

“But where would your wings - oh.”

“Yes.” Now that raised the question: “How would you sleep?”

In response, Kotori pulled off her cloak and carefully folded it, laying it on top of the pillow. She curled into a neat ball on the wardrobe top. Her wings dropped down, cocooning her in white; Eli could just see a tuft of greyish-blonde hair. She reminded Eli of the swallows who slept in the stables, small and round with feathers puffed.

Kotori uncurled. “It’s more comfortable with blankets for a nest,” she confided.

“A-alright, then…” Resigning herself to what had to be the strangest road trip ever taken, Eli passed blankets up to Kotori, watching as she arranged them in careful bunches. When she was settled, she peeked over the edge of her blanket nest at Eli.

“Good night, then,” Kotori said, smiling sleepily. “Thank you, Eli.”

“Don’t mention it.” Eli watched as Kotori disappeared from view. Shaking her head incredulously, Eli blew out the candle and got into her much more mundane bed.

The day’s exhaustion rolled over her with the blankets. Within seconds, Eli was dead to the world.

* * *

“The sun’s up. Eli, are you awake? Is it time to go?”

“Five more minutes,” Eli groaned, and rolled away from the small hands prodding at her shoulder. There was the sound of pattering footsteps; and then the hands were on the side of the bed Eli had escaped to, and they were shaking her now. Eli let out a second louder groan.

“Alisa, leave me…” Eli cracked an eye open, and came face to face with Kotori’s gleaming golden eyes, mere inches away from Eli’s face. A shriek of surprise climbed Eli’s throat, and died behind her clenched teeth. Do not scream in the heavenly messenger’s face.

Eli’s wide-eyed stare apparently convinced Kotori that she was awake. She stepped back, clasping her hands behind her back. “Can we go to the markets now?” she asked, excitement writ in every word.

“Just… just give me a moment to get dressed,” Eli said feebly. Her heart was still rabbiting in her chest.

“I’ll wait downstairs!” Kotori whisked through the room like a whirlwind, picking up her cloak and bag - and was gone, the door swinging shut behind her, before Eli had the chance to say anything.

The inn’s occupants were starting to wake up; footsteps trundled up and down the hallway. Eli cursed under her breath as she hopped her way into clothes and stumbled down the stairs, hair falling out of its ponytail. Where was Kotori…

Kotori was frozen by the inn door, blocked by the drunkard from the night before. His hangover didn’t seem to deter him.

“Where’s your bodyguard, little lady?” he slurred. “Would she mind if we went for a morning stroll?”

“Um,” Kotori said, voice tinged with panic. “B-bodyguard?”

“You know, ‘bout yea tall…” the man waved vaguely. Eli was at least a head taller than he imagined. She quickened her steps. “Blondie. Must cost upstanding nobles like you a good coin… I’ll protect you for free, how’s that?”

From her angle, Eli could see the outline of feathers bristling under Eli’s cloak. A gaggle of travelling merchants pushed past her, talking loudly; Eli growled as they blocked her way. They hastened to get out of her path.

“No thank you,” Kotori said firmly. Her hands were fisted into her cloak. “She’s doing it for free too, anyway.”

“Sure you don’t wanna change your mind?” The man leered in. His hand landed on Kotori’s shoulder, and Eli saw red.

“Yes, she’s sure,” Eli snarled, and seized the man’s hand. Hook her hoot behind his - pull hard on his hand - spin away, yank his feet out - and he crashed to the floor.

He yelped, rolling away from Eli’s murderous stance. Eli spared him one more loathing look, then turned to Kotori, who was staring at her with unadulterated awe.

“Are you alright?” Eli asked. She reached out without thinking to pat Kotori’s shoulder for any sign of injury from the man’s grip.

“Y…yes.” Kotori’s gaze fell to Eli’s hand. With an embarrassed grimace, Eli realised that that wasn’t a bodyguard’s proper conduct around their employer, and quickly whipped her hand away, covering it up by gesturing at the would-be philanderer.

“Get this man out of our sight,” she ordered the innkeeper who had been watching nervously. The innkeeper nodded at one of the wait staff; together, they dragged the man upright and firmly escorted him outside.

“Thank you,” Kotori said from behind Eli. Eli turned; Kotori seemed a little shaken, but she smiled through it. “I wasn’t really sure what I was supposed to do. And that was quite rude of him, trying to replace you.”

Did divine beings even know what flirting was? “Next time, if somebody tries to grab you like that, push them away. Make noise,” Eli stressed. “I’ll be right there. As long as I’m around, they should think twice about trying to touch you.”

“Mhm! I knew I could trust you, Eli.”

And then, destroying any image of master and servant they had been projecting, Kotori looped her arm into Eli’s and smiled brightly up at her. “Shall we?” she said with a gesture towards the door.

Eli had learned dances formal and informal. She had attended countless meetings with nobles and merchants, and held her hand out to escort them. She had sparred hand-to-hand with every soldier in the castle and rolled in the training yard with Nico and Alisa.

But never had Eli had a beautiful woman on her arm.

“Yeas,” she said, and immediately regretted having a voice. “I mean yes! Yeah. Let’s go.”

The morning air cooled Eli’s hot cheeks. They wound their way through the thin crowd to the town square, where hawkers were already firmly entrenched in their stalls and bellowing their goods for the day.

With brisk efficiency, Eli singled out several vendors. A new pack, to slit open at the back, so Kotori could more comfortably hide her wings; a longer lead for the packhorse, so Eli could walk with Kotori and not worry about panicking the poor animal; and…

“We can get you a new cloak,” Eli mused out loud to Kotori. She eyed the stalls; the stall-owners eyed her back eagerly. “Mine seems a little big for you, and it’s not the best kind for travelling…”

“No, thank you.”

Eli blinked. Kotori was smiling at her. “I like yours. It’s the first gift I’ve ever had. I’d rather keep it, if that’s alright,” she said, rubbing her thumbs over the hem of Eli’s cloak.

There was no earthly way Eli could refuse that. At any rate, it gave them an excuse for Eli to seem overprotective of her charge.

 _And she looks good in the Ayase house colours_ , whispered a sly voice in the back of Eli’s mind. Only when Kotori’s face lit up did Eli realise, to her horror, that she’d said that last thought out loud.

“I like to think I do too,” Kotori replied with a merry swirl of said cloak.

Now Eli definitely hoped that divine beings didn’t know what flirting was.


	4. Chapter 4

On the fifth day of the trip, tragedy befell the pair.

Otonokizaka was, generally speaking, a sparsely populated kingdom. Compared to the great cities of Rossiya Eli’s grandmother spoke fondly of, Otonokizaka boasted only one truly large city around the castle. Towns clustered around that heart of their nation, growing less and less common the further out one went. It wouldn’t be long before Eli and Kotori reached the stretches of countryside where there were no inns, only kind farmsteads and soft hay to sleep on.

Of course, the further out they were, the less well-maintained the roads were, and the more loose cobbles there were as stone turned to dirt under their feet.

No wonder someone whose usual method of travel was flying would sprain their ankle on such poor footing.

Kotori was pale as her white feathers. “Ouch,” she whimpered when Eli gingerly touched her ankle, stretched out before her on the roadside. Eli whipped back as if burned.

“I’m so sorry,” she said frantically, digging through the saddlebags for their medicinal supplies. “I should have found us a better road, or kept a closer eye on you - “

Kotori offered her a strained smile. “It’s not your fault,” she reassured Eli. “How could you have known? I should be able to fix it easily. Look, Eli.”

Eli looked.

Cupped between Kotori’s hands was a small sun. That was all Eli could think; it hurt to look directly at the golden glow that spilled between Kotori’s fingers. But she couldn’t look away.

She might be the first human in nine centuries to witness the magic of the gods.

In an impressive display of flexibility, Kotori stretched her hands out to her straight leg, the magic helpd just over the sprained ankle.

“Heal,” she murmured, and let the gold fall over the skin.

When it left her hands, it coalesced, oddly solid, like thick ink; it pooled against the dips of her tendons and trickled slow as honey down the bumps of her fine bones until it soaked into the earth, slow as the setting sun.

Eli held her breath until the last trace of gold was gone. “Did it work?” she whispered.

Kotori flexed her ankle experimentally, and made a sound like a strangled goose. “No,” she bit out. Her hands shook as she held them out and summoned the magic again.

Two more tries later, Kotori was looking more grey than white. She tried to muster a glare when Eli caught her hands, but Eli held firm against the furrow of Kotori’s slim eyebrows. “You’re exhausting yourself,” Eli chided. “Even I can see that. Won’t it be pointless to try further?”

There was a stubborn jut to Kotori’s jaw that Eli hadn’t noticed before, but when Kotori looked at her hands, trembling like a leaf in a thin breeze, she sighed and let herself go limp in Eli’s grip. “It should work,” she insisted. “I’ve used it before, I know it works…”

“What was it?” Eli tried to distract Kotori as she went back to the medicinal supplies. They’d have to do this the simple human way of going to a doctor or a healer.

“A simple healing spell for lower angels.” Kotori watched Eli approach with bandages, discontent writ in her tight mouth, but she allowed Eli to gently take her foot. “I don’t know much, just that and some basic attack spells. We don’t do anything except carry messages, so that’s all we learnt.”

“But you could learn anything you wanted?”

“I could. I’d need somebody to teach me, though.” Kotori‘s usual cheer was obviously dampened by the pain; the flicker of her eyelids every time Eli moved her foot made Eli want to wince too.

Eli heaved a breath as she sat back on her heels. “There, done.” The bandaging was asymmetrical, and without clips, Eli had clumsily tied it off with a lopsided bow. Medicine wasn’t one of her skills.

Kotori smoothed the bow between her fingers. “Cute,” she teased, winking at Eli. Eli laughed.

“It’s not the best job, but you’ll have to put up with it until we get to a healer,” she said. “Can you stay here while I have a look around, get our bearings? The nearest village shouldn’t be too far.”

Kotori cast an apprehensive look at their packhorse. “Okay…” Spica, as she had dubbed him, stayed at the farthest end of his lead away from Kotori. Gingerly, Kotori accepted the lead from Eli, holding it as if she held a snake ready to bite.

At the top of the hill Kotori had skidded down, Eli shaded her eyes against the bright spring green. The land rolled out before her in strangely familiar stretches of grass and cobbled road, speckled with copses of trees.

There was a small cluster of roofs along their road. Eli counted: two, four, eight, twelve… surely there would be a healer among them, or at least a village herbalist.

Another though struck her. What if the healer touched Kotori and knew her to be something not human? If Eli revealed herself, would she be able to swear the healer to silence? Eli bit her lip. No, probably not - country folk thrived off gossip.

Worst come to worst, they’d have to wait for a city, one with a healer’s guild Eli could bargain with.

 _But there isn’t going to be one nearby_ , Eli thought without knowing why; and then it clicked. She’d been here before. Several times, at that.

Because this was the Nishikino’s county.

Eli scrambled back down the hill. “I know where to go,” she told Kotori.

In a few words, she outlined her history with the Nishikinos. “We can trust them to keep a secret. Maki’s a good friend,” she said. If that was the right word. Friends were something the Nishikino heiress had little of; the only other friend Eli knew was Nico.

If nothing else, they had a healthy amount of mutual respect, thanks to years of negotiations between the Nishikino’s massive merchant empire and Otonokizaka’s sovereign authority.

(Though in her most insecure moments, Eli envied Maki’s ability to carry her family legacy without falter, and sometimes, even with relish.)

Kotori hummed in consent, trusting as always in Eli’s judgment. “How far is it?”

Oh, damn.

“At least a few hours’ walk,” Eli conceded. “I could carry you, but not that far, or we won’t make it there till nightfall.” Her mind raced. Would Spica allow Kotori on his back? But then, Eli would have to carry their supplies, and that had the same result. A makeshift litter made from branches? That would take time, too…

“That’s okay,” Kotori said, unruffled. “I’ll just fly.”

Sometimes, Eli just wanted to sink deep into the earth, where the infinitely wiser gazes of divine beings couldn’t reach her.

“You could,” Eli admitted. “But wouldn’t it hurt?”

“I sprained my ankle, not my wing joints. It’s sweet of you to worry, but you’ll get wrinkles.” Kotori smoothed a thumb impishly over said creased forehead. Eli forgot how to use language.

Before she could remember, Kotori was carefully tying her cloak and bag to Spica. Spica rolled his eyes but allowed this intrusion. Then her wings were out, white and bright, stark and strange against the mundane countryside.

“I’ll come down when you stop, okay? So we don’t scare your friend,” Kotori said. At Eli’s dumb nod, she grinned.

Oh, this was not a human at all. How could Eli forget?

The great wings rose, arched like cathedral doors. Kotori crouched. The wings came down, and she kicked off with her good foot.

The wind sent Eli’s hair into a frenzy. When she swiped it out of her face and reopened her eyes, Kotori was scarcely bigger than a bird. She tilted sideways, and was lost into a cloud.

As she walked alone, Eli thought of these things, in no particular order: the glint of Kotori’s wings in the sunlight. The speed with which she climbed the sky. The size of Otonokizaka, and the chances of finding a single person in it. Eli, earthbound, looking up into the deep, deep sky.

As the road widened, the trees parted and made way for the Nishikino mansion. It crouched, huge and hunchbacked, over the land; the road wound its way under the iron gates and disappeared into its maw.

A childhood memory: Eli cringing away from the mansion even as her grandmother held her hand firmly. “The Nishikinos are good people, and important ones, who you have to know well,” she had said, steel in her voice. “Behave.”

At Eli’s tearful nod, her grandmother had given her a proud smile. “And they import your chocolates too,” she had tacked on, and chuckled at the way Eli’s face lifted.

Eli felt a little like that furtive child again when she glanced left and right for witnesses, waved to the sky, and hurried back around the road’s bend to where the trees shielded her from the mansion’s gaze.

She didn’t have to wait long. Like a comet, Kotori dropped out of the sky, hurtling towards the ground so fast that an onlooker wouldn’t be able to say what they’d seen. Her wings flared as she brought herself to a stop in front of Eli.

“Hello,” Kotori said breathlessly, and keeled over.

Eli hissed a curse and caught her. Her skin was cold; little drops of condensation clung to her hair. “Kotori?” she said with a shake. “Are you alright? Kotori, what’s wrong?”

“Sorry… C-c-cold…” Kotori made a indeterminate sound of complaint and burrowed against Eli. Her head butted up against Eli’s chin; her skinny elbows jabbed against the insides of Eli’s arms.

Eli gathered her in carefully. She had heard of this before; the few mages capable of flight had described in their memoirs how the higher they went, the colder it became, until clouds froze on their clothes and they fell with blue lips. She just hadn’t expected Kotori to be subject to the same mortal constraints.

“I’m just getting your cloak,” Eli soothed when she moved and Kotori clung tighter with a whine. With her own cloak, Eli dabbed at Kotori’s face and bare arms until the fabric was dark with cloud-moisture. Satisfied Kotori wasn’t about to catch cold from the damp, Eli bundled her up.

Kotori sneezed. It was absurdly cute. “Sorry,” she said thickly, and sneezed again. Eli patted her back soothingly and tried not to hope for a third.

“Can you climb on my back?” Eli asked instead. Kotori nodded into Eli’s collarbones, and almost kept nodding off, had Eli not gently prodded her sides to make her squirm towards the best carrying position.

“Sorry,” Kotori said for the third time behind Eli’s earlobe. Her warm breath sent a shiver down Eli’s spine. “Making you carry me…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Eli leaned forwards carefully, balancing the new weight on her back, then stood straight. Kotori weighed alarmingly little, even dripping with water. It was as if her bones were brittle as a bird’s. “Are you comfortable?”

“Very,” sighed Kotori. Her chin came to rest on Eli’s shoulder as Eli started walking. “Eli, you’re so warm.”

“Probably because I haven’t been freezing myself in extreme altitudes.” Eli tried for dry. It came out as worry instead. “Next time, you don’t have to go so high. I could barely tell you weren’t just a bird even before you went into the clouds.”

Kotori mumbled into Eli’s neck, “I don’t want a next time. It’s lonely.”

Eli tipped her head back to stare at the sky. The sky stared back down, vast and impossibly blue. Where did it end? “I can see why,” Eli murmured.

How did Kotori carry her messages? Did she go alone, or were there other messengers for the gods? Did she have friends in the heavens?

Before Eli could muster the courage to ask any of these questions, they were at the front gate of the Nishikino mansion.

The gatekeeper eyed them suspiciously from his little hut. They made a strange-looking pair: one traveller piggybacking another, while a horse with flattened ears trailed reluctantly behind them.

Eli kept silent and returned his stare. Her station was higher; she refused to address him first. “No visitors without appointment,” the gatekeeper said at last with a distasteful curl to his voice.

“Is Maki Nishikino here?” Eli asked instead, ignoring his rudeness.

The gatekeeper sniffed. “That’s of no importance to you.”

Which meant yes, or he would have told Eli no and begone already. “I’ll see her immediately.”

“Lady, she hasn’t got time for the likes of you.” Sometimes Eli really hated the airs the Nishkinos and their servants put on. Kotori stirred on her back, anxious.

Eli straightened as best she could and lifted her chin. “Tell her the Ayases have a request to make of her. I haven’t got time for the likes of you either.”

Cold, arrogant, quite presumptuous; exactly the kind of air a noble would put on. That, coupled with Eli’s name-dropping, had the gatekeeper sulkily disappearing into the Nishikino grounds.

It wasn’t long before Maki herself came striding out of the doors, healer robes billowing intimidatingly behind her. She must’ve been testing potions, and had come out in a hurry. The gatekeeper, scurrying behind her, gave an obsequious and unseen bow before he disappeared into his hut again. From its relative safety, he glared at the stranger that his mistress had abandoned her work for.

To her credit, Maki didn’t unmask Eli. Her eyes widened, but she only cast a glance up and down their strange procession before she let out a put-open sigh and said brusquely, “Come on, then. I’ll hear your message inside.”

Kotori propped her chin up to watch Maki intently as they were led inside. Eli glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. Why was she so piqued all of a sudden?

“How long have you known each other for?” Kotori whispered.

“Since we were old enough to bring to court,” Eli whispered back. “At least fifteen years?”

“Hmm,” murmured Kotori, and said no more; but her eyes tracked Maki like a bird-of-prey.

At length, Maki brought them into a small parlour and dismissed the servants with a quick word. Alone at last, she offered Eli a curt bow, a shallow courtesy; Eli returned it. Then Maki said without preamble, “What do you need? Who’s that? And why are you in disguise?”

“I need you to heal Kotori’s ankle, and I need you to not say a word to anybody else about this. I don’t know how many of your questions I can answer, but that can wait until after this is done,” Eli said calmly.

The gods knew how much trouble Maki’s parents had had trying to drill court manners into the girl. Eli, though, appreciated Maki’s bluntness; it was nice not having to pick through simpered sentences for hidden nuances. And Eli did her best to return the favour whenever they spoke.

“Please,” tacked on Kotori with an uncertain smile.

Maki visibly struggled with the urge to fire off another round of questions, but she eventually nodded. “Up on the table,” she instructed, slipping into her professional healer persona. “What happened?”

Maki ran through a series of well-practiced questions, then ordered them to stay as she went to fetch her supplies. Eli remembered when Maki’s healing talent had first been discovered in true, carelessly attention-garnering Maki style.

They were at court. Maki had just turned seven, Eli nine; Eli knew enough to be kind but carefully distant from other noble children, knowing how their parents would try to use friendships with the Seneschals to their advantage. Maki, on the other hand, knew but didn’t care enough to be anything but carelessly distant.

Which meant that when she went wandering through the gardens by herself and was bitten by a snake, only the guards were around to hear her shriek, and see the twin holes scab over faster than they could call for bandages.

The Nishikino’s were delighted. Who wouldn’t be, to have such a gifted child? Their trading empire reoriented itself, focusing on the already profitable trade of medicines, and Maki found herself neck deep in medical studies as she was prepared to become the head of their most ambitious business venture yet.

Maki thrived under pressure like a precious gemstone. Every challenge she met, she overcame with a dismissive toss of her hair. Precious few knew when she struggled, which was just the way she liked it.

For instance, Eli had been subject to Maki’s awful bedside manner more than once, and viciously sworn to secrecy many times more.

“It’s just a simple dislocation,” Maki concluded. “I’ll cast a realignment spell, and give you some pain-numbing potions. It might hurt. Are you ready?”

Despite her brusque words, Maki handled Kotori’s ankle gently in her slender hands; it was a far cry from her snippy “hold still”s when Eli had come to her after weapons training. If it meant Kotori now didn’t have to suffer Maki’s barbed treatments, Eli was glad she’d been one of Maki’s first patients.

The familiar green fire lit at the tips of Maki’s fingers. Eli held her breath as the flames crawled over Kotori’s skin. Animal healing spells couldn’t be applied to humans, and vice versa; they were about to find out if the same principle applied to gods and humans.

Kotori flinched, and flinched again as the green fire flickered higher. Eli wanted to knock Maki’s hands away. But then Kotori’s face smoothed out, and she let out a sigh of relief. The flames died away to reveal unswollen skin.

“Rotate,” Maki ordered, and watched Kotori roll her foot around with a critical eye. “Looks good. How does it feel?”

“A little sore but okay.” Kotori favored Maki with a clasp of her hand and a smile that crinkled at the corners of her eyes. “Thank you, Maki!”

Maki stared, then let go to twirl her hair with a finger. “It was nothing,” she muttered, glancing around the room. “I need to. Tidy up, and then you’ll answer my questions?”

The question was expectant, barely a question. Maki glanced up long enough to see Eli’s nod before she was off, gathering away unused jars and bandages.

“It feels alright?” Eli murmured, coming over to Kotori. She touched the ankle lightly, trying to imagine how it felt to Kotori.

“Almost like new,” Kotori assured her, laying her own hand over Eli’s. “This was a good idea. Maki’s a nice person, isn’t she?”

“She doesn’t like admitting it much,” Eli said, “but yes. She’s a good friend.”

And again, that interest. “Do you have many stories of each other?”

“Stories..?”

“Of when you were - fledglings? Babies!”

“Children,” Eli corrected with a grin.

“What’s this about stories?” Maki asked, coming back into the room barehanded. Kotori slid off the table to take a seat directly opposite Maki. She leaned forward conspiratorially.

“Of you and Eli when you were children,” Kotori said, rolling the word ‘children’ with anticipatory delight. Baffled, Maki looked at Eli for guidance.

“Maki, no,” said Eli. It was the worst thing she could have said. Maki Nishikino did not enjoy being told ‘no’.

“Once I saw Eli get stuck in a tree because she climbed up after the castle cat and couldn’t figure out how to get down, and she wouldn’t let me call the guards. So she jumped and I had to heal her fractured arm and I was unconscious for half a day because it was beyond my level at that time. She still has the scar,” Maki rattled off with a smug flourish.

“Maki.”

Kotori clapped her hands together, trying to cover her giggle with them. “Can I see?” she asked Eli.

“Definitely not,” Eli said, tugging her long sleeve lower self-consciously, and glowered at Maki’s smirk.

“Can I have some answers now?” asked Maki, foot tapping against her chair.

“Wait,” said Kotori. “I have a question for you first, if that’s all right, Maki. Was there anything… strange with the healing? Will there be, um, complications?”

Maki’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re normal as normal can be. And my healing doesn’t have complications.”

“Oh. That’s good to know,” said Kotori, deflating a little. Her eyes flicked to Eli, and she gave a little shrug.

To distract Maki, whose eyes were narrowing at Kotori, Eli quickly said, “I wanted to keep my pilgrimage quiet, so I’ve been going in disguise. It helps me see more, hear more. Kotori’s… a seer who I brought from the castle with me. She’s going to the Seer’s Mountain and I’m stopping by anyway, so I thought we’d travel together. Let her see more of the world, you know.”

“You’re going to the Seer’s Mountain?” Maki repeated, brightening. Distracted just as Eli had hoped. She coughed into her fist to hide her sudden interest. “I just realised I haven’t talked to Nozomi for a while. Would you mind delivering a letter?”

“Of course - we can wait, if you write it right now,” offered Eli.

“I’ll be quick,” Maki promised as she left the room.

They had been pretty tight, Maki and Nozomi; Nozomi could cut through Maki’s bluster with a few words and an easy smile, and after a morning ride by themselves, Maki had somehow accepted Nozomi as one of her confidantes. If you wanted Maki to do something, you asked Nozomi to ask her. (Or you asked Nico to challenge Maki, but Nozomi was a much easier way.)

“Who’s Nozomi?” asked Kotori, drawing Eli out of her thoughts.

“An old friend of ours. One of my closest,” Eli recalled. It had been a long time since she’d seen Nozomi, too… “She’s a seer, so she left to train at their retreat a few years ago. She’s the most talented mage I know.”

“Just a friend?” Kotori prodded. Eli startled.

“O-of course!” she said with a fake laugh she wanted to snatch back out of the air. “What, why would you think otherwise?”

Kotori studied her. “Hmmm… nothing, really,” she said with an innocent shrug, and went back to studying the room’s paintings.

Gods, why was Eli so bad at lying? And why did Kotori make her feel so bad about it too?

“She was my childhood crush,” Eli volunteered without altogether consenting to volunteer. “We were children. It’s embarrassing to think about it now. She - she’s still the person who knows the most about me, and I about her, but we’re not. Uh. Involved that way.”

“But was there someone you were involved with that way?” pressed Kotori.

Maki was surely the slowest letter writer in the country.

“No, I was too busy,” said Eli, and then in a desperate attempt to deflect, “You?”

“M-me?” Kotori looked taken aback. “I…”

And at that exact moment, Maki came sweeping back in.

“Here,” she said, thrusting a bundle of thick letters into Eli’s hands. At the look Eli gave them, she flushed. “Look, there was a bit of a backlog, okay? Were you going to stay the night or not?”

Eli looked out of the windows, measuring the sun with her hand. “We can still make it to the next village if we take the shortcut through the forest. That’s still there, isn’t it?”

“If you want,” Maki said. “Take some food, though. Mama and Papa will kill me if they find out I let Eli Ayase leave without gifts.”

“But they’re not going to find out,” said Eli.

“No, they’re not,” agreed Maki, “but the principle of the thing still stands. Take some fruit. First of the harvest.”

“But - “

“Take it, and I won’t give you anything else,” Maki said mildly. It was not quite a threat. 

* * *

Eli tossed the orange peels onto the ground, peeling the pith away as they walked. Kotori had managed to squirt juice into her eyes twice before Eli gently but firmly confiscated the oranges. Her short mope cleared up the moment Eli handed her half a dozen orange segments, neatly peeled and sectioned.

The sun dipped towards the horizon as they wound their way along the narrow path between the trees. Clouds scudded across the sky, casting dappled light across their faces; it would rain that night, or maybe the next day. Eli watched them slide by.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Eli.

Kotori bit blissfully into her orange piece. “Hmm?”

“It would be so much faster for you to go alone without me.”

If she left it as a statement, if she didn’t push further, Kotori would stay. Eli could feel it - though she still didn’t understand why, the reasoning behind heavensent creatures’ thought processes.

Then again, Eli was not a heavensent creature.

Kotori licked the juice off her fingers thoughtfully. Eli did not stare. When she was finished, she said, “I think it’d be even lonelier if you weren’t there to come back down to. I think…”

She trailed off. Encouraging, wordless, Eli peeled orange slices and held them in reserve, waiting for Kotori to find her words.

Kotori nibbled on her lip, then said in a rush, “To answer your question, no. I didn’t have anyone I was involved with. I was… too busy, too. Or maybe scared. I’m scared now, too. I don’t know anybody, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know where I’m supposed to go - “ she cut herself off, ducking her head away from Eli.

Eli swallowed. The citrus tang was bright on her tongue, spurring her on. “Sometimes slow is better, I suppose,” she murmured, and tapped Kotori’s hand.

When Kotori looked up, Eli was holding an orange slice to her lips, as if they were children. A half-moon; a small, sweet smile. It surprised Kotori into a laugh, and another as Eli turned the orange into a frown, squinting exaggeratedly.

“It’s okay,” Eli said, dropping the orange slice, leaving her with her own smile. “I’m here. We can discover things at our own pace. There’s no rush.”

Kotori considered this. Then she stole the orange slice from Eli’s hand neatly and popped it into her mouth. Eli had had her lips pressed to that orange slice. This was fine and normal.

“Well, I think we should rush at least a little bit now, or we won’t get there before sundown,” she informed Eli pompously, mimicking the Nishikino’s gatekeeper. Eli snorted and quickened her pace.

“We’ll make a traveller out of you yet.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Looks like this is as far as we go for the night,” Eli said, coming to a stop at the crest of the hill. She looked around the landscape; in her mind’s eye, they took shelter under the sprawling branches, there, and tied Spica a safe distance away so he could rest in peace…

“No town?” asked Kotori, peering around them with interest.

“It’s too far, and it doesn’t look like there are any farmsteads either. We’ll have to start camping a bit. Maybe we’ll find some fishermen’s villages along the way.” Eli clicked her tongue, and Spica lumbered onwards with a sigh.

Two days ago, they’d found the first beach, rocky and sparse. The wind coming off the ocean was salt-sharp and snatched at their clothes. Kotori, heedless, wobbled at the edge of the small cliff to track the movements of the small blue crabs. Eli, gut-wrenchingly anxious, told herself over and over again that of all people, Kotori would be the most capable of catching herself on the way down.

Since then. Eli had bartered their way across the remainder of the southern border, where the land jutted out in high cliffs over the seas. She retold stories her grandmother had told her about the traders who wrestled their ships over the land, the creatures that supposedly dwelled in the Fathom-Queen’s strongholds under the waters. “ _Is_ there a Fathom-Queen?” she had paused to ask Kotori.

Kotori had only shrugged. “Many gods rule the ocean, the waters, the fish and the sea-storms, but I never met them,” she had said. “I wouldn’t know which you meant. I only delivered messages in the heavens; this is my first time in the human realm.”

Neither a confirmation nor a denial of Eli’s bedtime stories. Eli must have looked disappointed, since Kotori had tacked on, “I’d love to meet a mermaid, though.” Her wings rustled under her cloak; her eyes held a mischievous twinkle. “I think we’d have a lot in common to talk about.”

“You have extra parts, and they have a replaced part. It’s not quite equal,” Eli pointed out.

“Ah, but they’re only extra and replaced to you, Eli.”

“Then humans are just boring, I suppose? Missing parts, can only travel in one type of terrain - “

“Thoughtful,” Kotori had interrupted. “Quick-minded, tough.” She had looked up at Eli with a wistful smile. “Kinder than anyone else who’s spoken to me.”

Eli had to be imagining things. She was Kotori’s guide, her only constant source of human interaction. In her limited experience, of course Kotori would think the best of Eli, whom she depended on. Even if not, there was no sense in alienating her source of human information either. 

It shouldn’t matter what Kotori thought of her. Eli would watch over Kotori even if Kotori were the most arrogant, thoughtless and cruel person she had ever met. That was Eli’s duty: to guide and protect the divine messenger as they searched for the rightful ruler. She would carry it through no matter what–as befitted an Ayase.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. It wasn’t duty when Eli taught Kotori how to braid flowers into a bracelet, or when Eli gravely accepted Kotori’s flower crowning and declared it practice. It wasn’t duty when Kotori caught Eli’s hand in a moment of excitement and Eli allowed herself to be tugged along - no, to pick up her pace, to run by Kotori’s side to catch a glimpse of a bird feeding her chicks before she flew away. It most definitely wasn’t duty when Kotori bumped her shoulder against Eli’s as they sat in the shade to eat their midday meal, and Eli bumped back, a gleeful spark kindling somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.

And, somewhere along the line, it began to matter a lot what Kotori thought of Eli.

Did it matter to Kotori, too, what Eli thought of her?

Eli blinked.

Kotori was diligently hauling bedrolls down from Spica, who rolled his eyes but stayed still, mostly thanks to Eli’s hands running soothingly along his neck. She hadn’t even realised Kotori had brought them to a halt.

Kotori saw Eli’s hands stop moving, and smiled at Eli. “Was it a good daydream?”

Heat crept up the back of Eli’s neck. “It wasn’t really daydreaming,” she muttered, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Kotori said, too understanding. “We all need time to ourselves every now and then. It must be difficult, stuck with only me for company for so long.”

“I’d never be tired of you!” denied Eli. It was too vehement; Eli’s mouth clicked shut on the explanation that threatened to follow. Too much, too fast. She’d scare Kotori.

Except Kotori, apart from an initial surprised look, only seemed to smile brighter. Kotori must smile more than anybody else in the world.

“Me too,” Kotori said. “You’re too good to me, Eli. Be good to yourself, too.”

And that was all she said before she flitted off into the gathering dusk to hunt for kindling and firewood.

Eli patted Spica as she tied his lead to a tree. “I am good to myself,” she protested to him. “What does she mean?”

Spica did not know, and did not care. He lipped at Eli’s palms, sighed when he found them empty, let his head drop and took root.

“And I’m not too good to her, either,” she told her uninterested audience. When Spica did not seem forthcoming with any answers, Eli shook her head and left him.

She had a meal to cook for them, after all.

When Kotori returned, it was to Eli casting a critical eye over their ingredients. “Half a teaspoon of salt,” she muttered to herself. “I don’t have a teaspoon. Is this enough?”

“What are you doing?” Kotori asked, dropping to her haunches beside Eli and starting to pile the firewood up. Eli started.

“Trying to cook,” she said, abashed, and waved a hand at their soon-to-be dinner. “I thought it’d be nice if we could have a hot meal. It’s colder near the shore, after all.”

Kotori looked from the dried beef strips to Eli, eyes round. “You can cook?”

“Yes.” Then again, Kotori’s main experience with cooking was the seasoned fare of inn cooks who knew their recipes and tools like the back of their hands, so Eli modified, “A little. It won’t be the best you’ve eaten, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t mind, if it’s Eli’s cooking!” Kotori’s eyes gleamed. “Can I watch?”

“O-of course,” said Eli, who strongly did not want Kotori to watch her impending failure.

Since it was, after all, a failure.

“Um,” Eli said twenty minutes later, spoon in her mouth. “Kotori… we’ve still got the bread from this morning, right? You might want to eat that inste- wait, don’t - !”

Kotori was not so easily deterred. Her spoon swooped like a hawk, scooping up a hefty portion of meat and thick stew, which went straight into her mouth before Eli could do more than offer up a prayer to the gods.

“Mmm, delicious,” said Kotori, grinning at Eli before she started heaping the stew into her bowl.

“Wait - but - “ Eli pulled the pot away, ignoring the sear of the hot metal against her fingertips. “It’s not good, you shouldn’t eat it!”

“Yes it is,” Kotori insisted. She scooped up a spoonful of stew and held it out. “Taste again.”

Eli resisted the urge to look around for any eavesdroppers before she leaned forward and let Kotori feed her. At the first mouthful, she shook her head and lifted her hand to cover her mouth to say something. Kotori’s severe look quelled her.

Obediently, she tasted.

It was… serviceable. A little too salted, the meat chunks tough. Unfit for the castle’s dining hall. But she could make it and eat it without thinking on a trip by herself, or with some of the soldiers who also only cared that their food was hot and that there was lots of it.

“You should be eating better food,” she said anyway, because Eli was stubborn and because Kotori deserved the world.

“If you can eat it, then so can I,” answered Kotori, who was just as stubborn. Quietly, but just as. “Be good to yourself too, Eli.”

Kotori swallowed another mouthful of stew, eyes daring Eli to try to stop her. It took a moment of warring with her instincts, but Eli lifted her spoon in defeat and ate.

She had never met somebody who celebrated her failures.

It made her glower gladly at Kotori, who only stuck the spoon in her mouth and waggled the end at Eli impishly. Eli snorted. And then it was all right again; they ate in companionable silence. Eli didn’t even put up a token protest when Kotori whisked the dishes away to the stream, claiming it her responsibility to clean if Eli cooked.

The moon had risen by the time Kotori returned. Eli was building up the fire; spring nights weren’t long, but were longer than summer ones, and the coastal chill was only held at bay by walls.

Kotori shivered dramatically. “The water’s so cold,” she confided in a scandalised tone. Eli laughed and took the dishes from her to lay them out to dry before she returned to rub warmth back into Kotori’s hands.

“It’s a cloudless night,” Eli said, glancing up. “The stars will be beautiful tonight.”

“The stars?”

Kotori followed Eli’s gaze upwards. She inhaled softly.

It was a sight Eli had seen a hundred times before, but they had always spent the night under a roof. Kotori mesmerised by the stars was not a sight Eli had seen.

She wasn’t sure which glowed more wondrously, the night sky or the girl by her side.

Unwilling to ruin the moment, Eli tugged wordless at Kotori’s now warm hands. The starstruck messenger lay down at Eli’s bidding. Together, they stared up at the heavens rotating above them oh-so-slowly.

It was Kotori who broke the silence first. “Flying between them doesn’t even compare,” she whispered, hushed by the weight of the night. “Down here… they’re so beautiful.”

“Flying between?”

“The homes of the gods.” Kotori lifted a hand, caught a star between thumb and index finger. “There, they’re so far apart. It’s… dark, and cold - “ she cut herself off, turned her head to give Eli an apologetic look. “Sorry. It’s not where the human souls go, and it’s kind of lonely. You probably wouldn’t want to hear about those parts of the heavens.”

Eli’s heart flipped in her chest. “Anything you want to tell me, I’d want to hear about,” she said with courage she didn’t feel. “There are people in this country who would kill just to meet you, you know.”

An account of the realm of the gods, straight from one of their messengers. It made her feel as if she should be more religious, to appreciate the impact of it, but…

Kotori regarded her doubtfully. “Are you sure? It’s probably not what you’d want to hear.”

“I want to know more about you,” Eli said truthfully. “Where you came from, what your life was like.” Again, the unfelt courage, a foot held over an abyss: “You already know some things about me. I want to know you, too.”

She could see Kotori wavering. Then Kotori nodded, and started to speak.

Some things weren’t meant for mortal ears.

As Kotori described the land of the gods, beautiful and terrible, Eli heard the words as if from far away. She couldn’t understand. Every word alone, yes, they made sense, but trying to string them into meaning was like trying to knit a scarf with unspun wool. There was a fundamental missing component. It wasn’t meant for her.

For what felt like several long minutes, Eli could feel nothing; but eventually, she became aware of Kotori’s hands on her shoulders. Her pale hair fell around them as she crouched at Eli’s side, eyes terrifyingly bright.

“Eli,” she was saying, high and scared, “Eli, I’m here, you’re here, we’re okay, I’m sorry - “

Eli felt hyper-conscious of her tongue sitting heavy in her mouth. “Kotori,” she managed to say. Kotori’s face broke into relief. The foreign brightness in her eyes welled over, and showed itself for what it was - simple tears.

“You’re crying,” Kotori choked. Her fingers brushed over Eli’s cheeks. Eli could feel the tears slide against her skin.

“You too,” she said numbly. A shiver wracked her. Her skin was horribly alive; above them, the night sky was too large, the stars too bright.

Eli reached up without thinking and pulled Kotori down beside her. Kotori made a muffled sound as she hit the bedroll, but at Eli’s first touch, she wrapped her arms around Eli and clung, covering Eli’s body and holding her to the ground.

The weight soothed Eli. She focused on combing her fingers through the tangles at the ends of Kotori’s hair, on the heartbeat she felt against her shoulder. Kotori whispered apologies as the tears came to a slow halt.

“You didn’t know,” Eli assured her. Her words came slowly; every syllable spoken reminded her of Kotori’s description. She pushed it out of her mind again and again until it was barely louder than an echo, and she could pretend once more that she did not know what the heavens were like. “You didn’t know.”

Kotori nodded and couldn’t stop nodding. “If I’d known, I never would have… I didn’t mean to… Eli, are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah,” said Eli, lying next to Kotori, thinking about not thinking. “I’m alright. We’re alright.”

Long after the tears had dried, neither could find the will to move from their position. The fire burned low, the heat of its embers washing over Eli’s right shoulder; Kotori lay half-draped over the other shoulder, still clutching Eli’s shirt in her hands.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Kotori murmured. Eli couldn’t count the times she had asked. Eli huffed an amused sigh.

“I’m sure. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“No, _I’m_ sorry for scaring you,” insisted Kotori.

“And I forgive you for scaring me,” Eli said, not for the first time. “Besides, I don’t even- “ she stopped.

Kotori looked up. “You?”

Eli looked at her and felt the uncanny play of magic and the gods at work. “I can’t even remember any of what you told me,” she said.

* * *

That night, Eli dreamed, and in her dreams, this was what she remembered.

Kotori was lonely.

The gods were cold, and did not care about their messengers beyond their usefulness.

There was no family left behind; there were few friends, none of them close.

And, the only thing Eli had heard and understood, right before Kotori turned to her and saw what had happened: “I’m glad I’m here now. The view is so much better here.”

* * *

In the morning, Eli woke up with pins and needles sparking viciously through her left arm, and an impossible mat of bed-hair that involved two people.

“Morning,” said Kotori quietly, propped up on her elbows and studiously working her way through said mat of bed-hair.

They looked at each other.

The giggles rose uncontrollably in Eli’s chest. She tried to choke them down, but Kotori must’ve seen it in her face, because the next moment they were both wheezing helplessly at the bizarrity of the situation.

The previous night seemed like nothing more than a bad dream, chased away in the light of day. Or maybe this was the dream. If so, Eli never wanted to wake up, not when Kotori was trying to braid their hair together and Eli was too happy to grin.

Their route that day took them along a beach Eli had visited years ago with Alisa and her mother on a rare trip out of the castle. Eli considered the height of the sun in the sky and the length of the walk to the next village.

What was one more night out in the open?

“I want to show you something,” Eli said, still buoyed by the morning’s mischief, and led them down a side path.

Dirt turned to sand under their feet; the trees grew sparser and sparser, until suddenly they were faced with the white glare of the beach and the roar of the waves.

Kotori stood stock still, trying to take it all in at once. “Breathe,” advised Eli, and delighted in the widening of Kotori’s eyes as the salt-scent filled her lungs.

Eli breathed deep too. If she listened closely, she could hear toddler Alisa’s gurgling laugh in the whisper of the ocean.

“It’s…” At a loss for words, Kotori stretched her arms out, as if she could embrace the horizon. Her eyes were fixed where the water bled into the sky, one great blue curve.

If you sailed far enough, you could reach the heavens, one of the castle servants used to like to say. His father had been a sailor, and he carried the Fathom-Queen’s token faithfully in memory of him.

Kotori’s toe scrunched at the sand. “Why aren’t there more people?” she fairly demanded, turning to Eli. “It’s so…”

Eli tried not to laugh. “It’s still too cold to swim, and the big fish don’t come close here, since it’s a shallow beach.”

_“Swim?”_

“You can if you want, but I’m staying right here,” Eli said with a grin.

“Well, isn’t that boring,” said Kotori decisively, and stripped her top layers off to Eli’s laugh. Her wings stretched free of the tunic’s slits as she padded down the beach from dry to wet sand.

“Don’t go too far!” Eli called, and got an absentminded wave in reply. She led Spica back into the shade and tied him in case she had to do an impromptu rescue.

Kotori seemed to be doing just fine, though. Her happy shriek had Eli tensing until she saw how Kotori was spreading her wings, letting the waves catch her off her feet and wash her up on the shore before she leapt back up and dove back in.

“Try drinking the water!” Eli yelled, because sometimes she was terrible. Kotori trustingly did so. After she was done coughing, she dunked her wings until they dripped, and came beating up the shore with a swan’s righteous fury, determined to return the favour. Eli ran and laughed until her legs and cheeks ached.

All good things had to come to an end, however. The beginning of the end was when Kotori stumbled breathlessly up the shore to dry herself and found the mess she had made of her feathers.

“They’re clumping,” she moaned, distraught as never before. One enormous wing was in her lap as she preened again and again at her flight feathers. “Eli, why are they clumping?”

“Feathers do that if they don’t belong to a duck,” Eli said, trying to keep the giggle-shaking to a minimum.

“Only in the human realm! They have the _decency_ to lie flati n the heavens - oh, no, they’re sticky, Eli why is this happening - “

Eli stammered an excuse about going to find freshwater to help Kotori wash, then made a break for it before the giggles could explode. 

Eli came back with three full canteens and the resolve to not laugh. The latter was unneeded, though. Kotori sat cross-legged on the ground, peacefully combing through her feathers, straightening and brushing dried salt out of them.

It looked like a painting, almost. Utterly unreal, a little strange, beautiful nonetheless. Eli felt as if she were spying.

She wanted to help. She wanted to be let into the facade, like no one else had been. More - she wanted to peel away the lovely front to see the Kotori who laughed and cried, who made mistakes, who didn’t know everything. 

Kotori looked up and waved her over.

“Need a hand?” Eli said, setting the canteens down by Kotori.

“A little. Could you get the back, right where the feathers start? I can reach it, but I can’t see what I’m doing.” Kotori demonstrated by twisting her hands up behind her back and waving at Eli. Her flexibility was… creepily impressive.

Eli nodded, wetting her fingers with water. “Tell me if I hurt you,” she said, and gingerly touched Kotori’s feathers for the first time.

They were soft as silk. Eli remembered breaking open down pillows in pillow fights with Nozomi and Nico; the feathers that had floated on the air then were nothing compared to these.

“I don’t think as much got onto your back,” Eli said, trying to keep her voice even. Kotori was relying on her for this. She couldn’t fall apart into an easily awed mess.

“Mmh, you’re doing a good job,” Kotori said, focused on her own handful of white. “Just keep smoothing them back along the joint - yes, like that, perfect. Thank you, Eli. I know it must be strange.”

Eli shook her head, even though Kotori couldn’t see. “No, thank you for letting me. They’re beautiful.”

“O-oh.” Kotori’s ears pinkened. “Thank you…”

Without anything to say in return (“You’re welcome?” hah), Eli fell silent too. They worked their way through a maze of feathers.

Who knew a heavenly messenger’s grooming routine could be this mundane?

“How did you know this was here?” Kotori asked eventually. “It wasn’t on the map, I don’t think.”

“My family brought my sister and I here when we were younger. A rare holiday trip.”

“Rare,” repeated Kotori,turning her head to watch Eli expectantly for the rest of the story. Eli let out an affectionate huff; storytime had become more and more frequent.

“My mother had just concluded a trade deal and come home, so she took us off our grandmother for a short holiday. It was our first time seeing the ocean…”

Kotori listened in attentive silence, interrupting only to ask questions. She wanted every detail, big and small. When Eli was finished, she said, “Tell me another?”

Eli told her another. Her first weapons training lesson with the gruff old groundsmaster, in which she thought throwing her sword would be an excellent tactical decision never before attempted. She was six.

(It would have been with her father, but Jin Ayase died without ever seeing his daughters, fighting on Otonokizaka’s borders. All Eli had was the nagging feeling that she had, somehow, failed at grief - but how were you supposed to miss someone you’d never met? So Eli wasn’t qualified to tell stories about the former Lord Seneschal. If Kotori learned about her father, she’d learn it as an outsider listening in on others, just like Eli had.)

The feathers were mostly straightened and dry by the time this story ended; but again, Kotori asked, “Another story?”

Eli searched for one - couldn’t think of an interesting one she hadn’t already told. “I could tell you one of the ones my grandmother used to tell me?” she said, hands slowing awkwardly.

“I’d rather hear one of your own, if you don’t mind. Even one you’ve told before.”

Eli’s hands stilled. “Can I ask why?” she said.

Kotori didn’t move, her wings extended. Then she turned and caught one of Eli’s hands in her own. Melancholy wrote itself across her face, entirely at odds with the way she’d been reacting to Eli’s stories.

She traced a finger over Eli’s sword calluses. “You’re so… well-lived in,” Kotori murmured. “There’s so much in your past. And you can share it.”

Eli could say nothing, eyes riveted to Kotori’s thumb smoothing over and over her skin. To her dismay, Kotori pulled her hands back with a nervous laugh.

“I guess I’m being greedy, aren’t I? Wanting your history instead of my own, even when other humans would want mine. It’s just…”

“Just?” Eli prompted. Daringly, she reached out to take Kotori’s hand again.

Kotori’s gaze flicked down to it. Her eyes went bright; there was a tremble to her jaw. She sniffed, tried for a smile, and said, “I’m sorry I can’t tell you more about me. You’ve told me so much, and now I feel like I know you so much better, but I’m… it was nice, pretending to have a past like that.”

Searching out the small details and guarding them closely; listening so intently that she could repeat Eli’s words as if they were a script. No wonder, when Kotori’s goal wasn’t to know about being human, but to remember being human.

That was something Eli couldn’t let her pretend.

“Listen,” she said, tightening her grip on Kotori’s hands. She was breaking a hundred rules of decorum and she couldn’t care less. “I don’t - I don’t care about your past. Well, I am curious, and I do want to know, but you’re not the same person you were when I met you, and neither am I. To me, this is being human, Kotori. Remaking ourselves every day. Remembering the past, but not playing it out again. Doing our best to think about what we will be, not what we were.” 

Kotori was staring at Eli with owlish eyes. Eli immediately wanted to swallow her tongue. “I mean,” she tried, “That’s just. What I think. That I like the Kotori I know right now just fine, no matter how godly or how mortal.”

“Oh,” said Kotori quietly. She looked down at her hand in Eli’s, then back up at Eli. “You like me.”

“Yes,” Eli said, and before she could stop herself, “A lot. More than I should, probably.”

Kotori tipped her head to one side. “Is there a set amount you’re allowed to like me? Is this breaking human rules?”

“No. Yes.” Eli blew at her bangs. She was ridiculous, and Kotori was ridiculous, and she had no idea how this ridiculous situation had happened. “Well, it’s never been done before.”

“This?” Kotori held up their hands, shook them lightly. She was smiling like the sun coming over the horizon, slow but brighter and brighter until Eli could barely look.

“Yes,” Eli managed. “Whatever ‘this’ is.”

“I’m not sure either,” Kotori told her gravely. Her face was very close. Eli couldn’t help noticing the beginning of freckles on her cheekbones. “But that’s okay. We can figure it out together?”

Dumb, Eli nodded. And Kotori was leaning up to catch the end of her nod, their noses were brushing each other, and and and -

It was a little awkward, obviously both of their first kisses. Kotori’s mouth slipped over Eli’s, soft, hesitant; Eli stopped breathing and didn’t remember how to start again, nor did she want to.

There was no fanfare, no birdsong, no divine rush. Just the taste of sea-salt and the quiet rustle of their clothes in the breeze.

To Eli, Kotori was too real to be anything inhuman after that.

* * *

In the morning light, Eli and Kotori waged war over the honey jar.

“That’s too much honey,” Kotori insisted. “Your teeth will hurt. I’d know, mine did!”

“If you think this is sweet, you just haven’t experienced chocolate yet.” Eli dumped a liberal amount of honey into her porridge and, just to see Kotori’s face scrunch, stuck the half-full spoonful into her mouth and winked.

Kotori’s nose wrinkled obligingly, but as expected, her attention was diverted by the promise of more information about humans and their strange foods. “What’s chocolate?”

Eli sighed in bliss. “My favourite. The food of the gods, probably.” She blinked. “Actually, do gods even eat?”

“Of course we do, just for fun. We eat…” Kotori trailed off. Eli watched her go far away, honey sliding over her fingers.

“Kotori?” she said, placing a hand on Kotori’s arm. Kotori came back with a furrowed brow.

“I can’t quite remember the taste of ambrosia.” She looked troubled for a moment, but it passed when she saw Eli make her move while she was distracted. “Why are you putting more in? Eli, don’t - “

“You have something on your cheek,” Eli said, and leaned across the inn’s rough-hewn table to drop a kiss on the corner of Kotori’s mouth. Kotori made an honest-to-god squeak, then puffed her cheeks in annoyance at Eli, who only pointed at the spoonful of honey now on Kotori’s bread and laughed.

Eli was happier than she could remember for years.


	6. Chapter 6

The days blurred together in a haze of peace and quiet happiness Eli had barely dared hope for. Nothing had changed - they still woke up, prepared themselves for a day of travel, watched the same dirt roads scroll by under their feet and slept under unfamiliar roofs or skies. But at the same time, everything was new and precious.

For example: Kotori discovered that she liked to wake Eli up with tiny kisses to the nose. Eli discovered that she liked to slip her hand in Kotori’s as they walked, and swing them to the rhythm of the little tunes Kotori whistled. Kotori discovered that flowers looked very, very pretty when braided into Eli’s hair. Eli discovered that Kotori liked it an awful lot when she swung Kotori up into her arms as they crossed a stream to keep her shoes from getting wet. (Eli liked it an awful lot, too.)

She almost forgot what they had set out to search for.

After the sixth passerby in two hours, Kotori commented, “There are so many people travelling today.”

“It’s because of Alisa’s inauguration,” Eli said. She watched the most recent ox-drawn cart move away with a practiced eye. Yes - there, in the back, half a dozen crates of imported fresh fruit for a celebration, when even simple villagers would be more willing to spend coin on the luxury.

“Your sister?”

“She’ll be the heir presumptive - if I don’t name another heir before I retire or die, she’ll be the next Seneschal.” Eli rubbed the back of her neck with a grimace. “I did tell my grandmother that I won’t be having children regardless. But if I adopt, claim to the office could go either way.”

Then Eli remembered. It wouldn’t matter if they found the ruler on this pilgrimage. The office of the Seneschal would fade in importance - uncapitalised, no longer the major authority of the country. It wasn’t even guaranteed that the Ayases would be the next seneschals.

Would Eli be the last of her family to pass the flame on?

Kotori looked troubled. “I’d rather not think about you dying, thank you very much,” she told Eli firmly.

Eli chuckled. “Neither would I, but someone has to. There haven’t been any major wars for centuries now, but if there are… Seneschals lead from the front.” She had a legacy to live up to, anyway.

“I’ll just have to protect you then,” Kotori said decisively, as if that solved the matter. At Eli’s incredulous look, she drew herself up with righteous indignance. “I can defend myself, too. I might not be a warrior, but even messengers can get in trouble.”

“If you protect me and I protect you, I think we might be alright then,” allowed Eli.

Kotori nodded with the benevolence of a ruler. “As long as that’s clear,” she said solemnly. They managed to hold the grave facade for all of a few seconds before Eli snickered and Kotori joined her.

When the giggles had subsided, Eli said, “Though it wouldn’t matter much if we find the ruler. I don’t know what kind of role they’d have me play.”

“Mmh,” said Kotori sympathetically. She twisted strands of grass between her fingers, pleating them over and over.

“What about you? Will you… could you stay?”

Kotori focused on the grass. “Maybe,” she said slowly. “I think so. We’ll see.”

Something had come down like gates in her eyes; it showed in the way she picked around her words. Eli was watching her, wondering if she could ask a little more, but a shout caught her attention.

Someone was yelling her name.

“Eliiii!” Even as her hand dropped to rest on her sword hilt, Eli recognised the gleeful voice. She’d grown up with it, after all.

“Honoka, sit down, you’ll throw us off!!” Eli had also grown up with that exasperated voice.

Behind them was Honoka Kousaka, stood balanced on the seat of their wagon and beaming like the sun. Umi Sonoda, daughter of the groundsmaster himself, clutched the reins of their ponies with white-knuckled fingers. It was probably the only thing keeping her from bodily seizing Honoka and dragging her back down to seat level.

“Friends of yours?” Kotori asked, shading her eyes and staring openly.

“Yeah…” Eli laughed nervously, watching Honoka sway precariously and Umi’s shoulders jump to her ears with anticipatory terror. “They’re good people, just… Honoka tends to drag everybody along at her own pace, so try not to get caught up.”

The warning was heard, heeded, and yet entirely useless. The cart drew up alongside them and Honoka leapt at Eli with open arms. Eli yelped, caught Honoka, spun in a desperate attempt to maintain balance, and somehow managed to keep them upright.

“I missed you so much!” Honoka sniffed into her shoulder. “And Yukiho, and Mom and Dad, but I feel like I haven’t talked to you for ages. You didn’t even come see me off before I left this time!”

Eli patted Honoka’s head soothingly. “I’m sorry, I was busy with the trade agreements,” she said. “I saw you off every other time, though, remember?” Inspiration struck her. “Wait a minute, your mother asked me to deliver something to you.”

Meanwhile, Umi had dismounted the wagon and helpfully pried Honoka off Eli. Her lips were pinched in scandalised shock. “Honoka! Even if you’re childhood friends, we shouldn’t be interrupting the Seneschal’s pilgrimage! Do you have any idea how serious it is?”

“It’s all right,” Eli said placatingly. “As long as you don’t go yelling my name everywhere. I’m supposed to be incognito after all - ah, here it is.” She pulled the biscuits out of a saddlebag and dangled them invitingly. She’d saved them on a hunch, though not without a little regret. The Kousakas weren’t the royal bakers for nothing.

At the sight of her mother’s baking, Honoka yelled and dove for them. Umi let her with a sigh. While Honoka was occupied with reciting the virtues of homemade biscuits in between bites, Umi gave Eli a bow, formal as ever. “I’m sorry for the trouble,” she said as she straightened.

How many times Eli had heard Umi say that in their shared past. “Like I said, don’t worry about it,” she said with a wave of her hand, dismissing Umi’s worries. “How has your trip been so far? You must’ve had your hands full.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Umi demurred. She smiled at Eli, and reflexively, Eli smiled back. Behind all the formalities, Eli did count Umi as one of her friends. “No trouble on the roads, plenty of performances. We won’t run short of coin, that’s for sure.” Umi glanced over Eli’s shoulder and added, “What about yours? I notice you’ve picked up a travelling companion.”

Honoka had noticed Kotori at the same time. Swallowing down a massive mouthful of crumbs and dusting her hands off, she stuck one out, grinning. “Hello! My name’s Honoka, assistant baker and travelling performer. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Kotori echoed, clasping Honoka’s hand with only a little trepidation. It disappeared when Honoka shook her hand enthusiastically and then immediately offered a cookie.

Eli barely had any time to worry before Umi cleared her throat delicately, still waiting for an answer. “Oh, Kotori’s… a seer, probably. I found her on the way out of the capital, and since we were going the same way, I offered to travel with her.”

“Is that so,” Umi said slowly. She looked Kotori over again. To Eli’s mild horror, Honoka was demonstrating an illusion magic trick with delight. Kotori reached out with wide eyes to touch the bear cub in Honoka’s palm before snatching her hand back with a squeak as the bear cub roared squeakily.

“Yes,” Eli said feebly. “It was only convenient, after all.”

“Wasn’t the plan to travel with Nico? Where is she?”

Damn it, Umi was too sharp.

Eli scrabbled for an excuse. “Nico’s… mother was a little ill, so even though she insisted on accompanying me, I ordered her to stay behind. Besides, I’ve found it’s been informative travelling without any reminders of my station. I’ve learnt a lot.” At least the second half, true as it was, came out smoothly.

Just as Umi’s silence started to stretch uncomfortably and Eli was on the verge of babbling to cover it, Kotori darted over to seize Eli’s hand. “Eli, did you see what Honoka did? _She can stand on her hands_!”

Umi looked from Eli to Kotori, then from Kotori to Eli, then back again. Eli could practically see the somersaults of emotion on her face as she came to her conclusion. Before Eli could say anything, Umi immediately lit up red as a tomato.

“Umi - “

“It’s not my place to tell you what to do Eli but there is a certain amount of decorum that the Seneschal should uphold and while I hesitate to call this truly shameless I do hope, very strongly, that you are aware of the consequences of your actions both short- and long-term and that you are prepared to deal with them though I’m sure Kotori is a lovely person and I think you deserve to find your own happiness,” Umi garbled in a rush. “Excuse me. I have to go check our wagon wheels. For… splinters.”

“Uh-huh,” Eli said numbly. Umi nodded, a hard jerk, then spun on her heels and marched away, stiff as a marionette.

Well. At least that meant no more questions from Umi.

Eli looked at Kotori helplessly, and started to say something. Then she stopped and looked more closely at Kotori’s face. Guile-free as her smile was, the look in her eyes was that of a person who knew exactly what she was doing.

“You,” Eli began, and stopped, awed.

“Hm?” Kotori said sweetly. “Is there something wrong?”

Eli shook her head in wonder. “No… no, nothing.”

Honoka came over to loop her arm over her new friend’s shoulders. “So Eli,” she said, almost about to start bouncing on her feet, “do you have some time? Do you want to come see me and Umi perform?”

“Please?” Kotori added, looking up at Eli, and oh, Eli didn’t expect this weapon to be turned on her so easily and without any hesitation.

“Why not,” she said, holding her hands out powerlessly. “Kotori and I don’t really have a strict schedule. Is this for Alisa’s…?”

“Yeah! We’re going to Akihabara. We were due for a repeat soon anyway. We’re performing tomorrow, so do you wanna hop on with us? It’s not far, I promise, and it’ll be a lot faster than walking.”

There were a hundred ways this could go wrong. Somehow, Eli didn’t think Umi would be easily talked into keeping Kotori a secret, devout as her family was. Still, the plaintive look Kotori was giving her - and the chance of seeing Honoka and Umi perform again -

In the face of her loved ones, Eli threw her inhibitions to the winds. “That would be great,” she said with a grin, and held her hand out to help Kotori up into the wagon.

* * *

As it turned out, Honoka and Umi were excellent travelling companions. Honoka cracked jokes and kept a running commentary on the scenery they passed. Umi was the perfect counterpart, butting in to keep Honoka settled when necessary, but otherwise a calm and excellent wagon driver. When she was quiet, Eli sometimes saw her smiling softly out of the corner of her eye.

Kotori was positively chuffed to be on her first non-foot-powered transportation. She leaned her head out of the back of the wagon to watch the road roll away rapidly, and looked startled every time they jolted over a bump.

At the inn, Umi broke into a coughing fit when Eli only requested one room for the two of them, but otherwise kept from commenting. Honoka seemed blissfully oblivious. Either that, or she knew and thought it perfectly normal; Eli could never tell with Honoka. Either way, she evidently adored Kotori. Their conversation ran long past their dinner until Umi pulled a yawning Honoka up from her seat.

“We have a performance tomorrow,” she chided gently. “Save your voice. Goodnight, Eli, Kotori. It was lovely meeting you.” She inclined her head - not even a direct order to hide Eli’s identity could stifle Umi’s sense of propriety - and hauled Honoka away like a mother wolf picking up her stray pup.

“You too,” Eli said to Kotori, whose hair was dangling dangerously close to her unfinished apple pie. For an instant, the image of Eli handwashing Kotori’s hair flashed in her mind; then Eli shook it off and reached to tuck Kotori’s hair away safely. “Let’s go sleep. It’s been a long day.”

“Mhm,” said Kotori drowsily. She blinked at Eli, slow and languorous, before allowing herself to be helped up from her seat and guided up the inn stairs.

She sat on the bed and rubbed her eyes as Eli unlaced her boots and pulled them off carefully one after another. “How chivalric,” she yawned.

Eli dropped a kiss on Kotori’s clothed knee. “Thank you,” she said agreeably. “Do you want me to help you move your blankets?”

“Mmh… no.” Kotori gestured. Eli, weaving unsurely with Kotori’s fuzzy signals, eventually ended up laying on the bed.

Kotori rolled onto her front and tucked her head against the curve of Eli’s shoulder, draping her arm over Eli’s stomach. Eli’s hand came around automatically and settled in the curve of Kotori’s spine, just between her wing joints. If Eli inhaled, she could smell the sweet scent of the flowers Kotori had worn earlier lingering in her hair.

“Comfortable?” Kotori mumbled.

Eli lay very still and willed her heart not to overflow. “Very,” she mumbled back, and capped the candle, dropping another kiss on Kotori’s temple as she did.

In the secretive dark, Eli felt her muscles unwind against the mattress. Kotori nuzzled her nose against Eli’s shoulder. There was restlessness in her squirms to get closer to Eli.

Eli carded her hand through Kotori’s hair and whispered, “A copper for your thoughts?”

Kotori’s eyes glinted gold at her. “I like Honoka. She’s very nice, and she knows so many things, even though she doesn’t seem like it. Umi is nice too.” Her eyes narrowed to mischievous half-moons. “She reminds me of you a little bit. Very dashing, a little worried all the time.”

“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not,” Eli said with amusement.

“What about you? A… copper for your thoughts?”

“Thinking about Alisa,” Eli admitted. “If she’s scared, if she’s holding up well. I’m a little homesick, I guess. We haven’t been apart for a long time.”

Kotori traced the tendon in Eli’s forearm for a quiet moment. She offered, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. She’s your sister, after all.”

“Mm.” Thoughts of Alisa led to thoughts of their grandmother. She was getting on in years; how long, until Eli and Alisa became the last Ayases in the country? How long until Eli would be bereft of the former Seneschal’s guidance?

Trying to turn her thoughts around, Eli asked, “Are you homesick, Kotori?”

“No,” she said without any hesitation.

Eli craned her head to try and get a clearer look at Kotori’s face, wondering what she was thinking. Sensing Eli’s confusion, Kotori added, “It doesn’t feel like I really had a home to want before. Don’t look sad, Eli. You can’t miss what you haven’t had.”

The worst thing was that Eli knew exactly what she meant. In response, Eli tightened her grip on Kotori. She wanted to press Kotori against her, grow Kotori in the safety of her soul. _I’ll be here,_ she wanted to say.

But the words wouldn’t move. Not when the Seneschal couldn’t make any promises she might not be able to keep.

* * *

A firecracker popped right outside their window. Eli groaned and shielded her eyes from the morning light, burying her face in Kotori’s hair.

She heard Kotori giggle. “Come on, Eli, we have to get up.”

“Don’ wanna,” she mumbled, drawing her person-pillow closer to her. It was warm and safe and entirely too comfortable to leave.

“Poor baby,” Kotori said, patting Eli’s head patronisingly. Eli was about to file a complaint when a door-rattling series of knocks had her groaning.

“Eli! Kotori! Wake up!” yelled Honoka’s muffled voice through the door. “The merchants are already out, you’ll miss the festival if you sleep any more!”

“I can’t believe Umi’s managed to turn her into a morning person,” Eli grumbled, sliding out of bed with perhaps a little more slouch than necessary. Kotori patted her head again.

“I think she’s just excited for the festival,” she said, being entirely too reasonable and awake for such a good morning to sleep in. It’d been months since Eli had last slept in. Eli looked at the bed wistfully before she heaved a sigh and toed her way into her boots.

Downstairs, the inn’s dining area was practically empty. The innkeeper was undisturbed. “They’ll be back in the night for drinks,” she said at Eli’s confused face. “Go get your breakfasts outside, loves. It’s the little Ayase’s day, you should have some fun.”

The little Ayase. “I suppose that makes me the big Ayase,” Eli muttered under her breath to Kotori, who hummed consideringly and stretched on tiptoes till Eli went cross-eyed trying to look at her. The top of her head came just up to Eli’s eyes.

“I suppose that does,” agreed Kotori blithely, and took the opportunity to peck Eli on the lips.

Outside, the streets swarmed with celebrators. Eli and Kotori walked side by side with farmers with dirt-creased hands enjoying a rare day off, gap-toothed children who shrieked and chased each other with bright paper fans, and other wide-eyed travellers. Somewhere, there was music playing; it carried faintly on the wind wherever they went.

“Honoka and Umi’s show is in the town center,” Eli said loudly over the noise. “We should go save a spot before it fills up.”

Kotori nodded and stuck close to Eli’s back as they pushed their way through the crowd. The chatter swelled as they approached the densest areas of the celebration.

Honoka was standing on the top of the little makeshift wooden stage the townspeople had set up over the night. Her face lit up when she saw Eli and Kotori, and she waved enthusiastically. Kotori waved her and Eli’s joined hands back with just as much vigor.

 _Don’t, it’s unbefitting of the Seneschal-to-be_ \- but right now, Eli was nobody. She felt the grin on her face stretch, buoyed by the crowd’s energy.

“Is everybody ready?” Honoka yelled into the crowd, cupping her hands. There was a ring to her words: a little boost of magic, to help her voice reach everybody. The crowd yelled back their assent, and the show began.

When Eli was young and unafraid to play with the castle’s servants’ children, Honoka had dragged her to an empty room and puffed her chest out proudly. “Look what I can do!” she had announced, and pulled an orange fox out of the air. It had crouched in her palm, all sparks of light and air, peering at Eli.

Even as her parents gently guided her back to their traditional baking business again and again, Honoka was determined to share her illusions of light with everybody. Eli was her test audience more than once.

And now, for the first time, Eli was watching the fruits of her labour.

There was a certain charisma to Honoka, which let her dance across the stage with her constructs of light, singing songs scribbled with Umi. It bid everybody who heard to stop and listen. Honoka’s presence suspended reality - not long, but long enough for everybody to breathe and find their happiness again.

“She’s so good,” Kotori whispered. Eli glanced down at her. Kotori’s foot was tapping to the beat; surreptitiously, Eli rearranged her pack so her wings lay flatter. “She must have been so lucky, to be born with that kind of talent.”

“She didn’t start out this way. Honoka worked hard to learn what she knows now,” Eli murmured. On the stage, Honoka flung a hand out to her audience on a high note; the audience cheered her on. “I don’t know anybody who tries harder than her.”

A lull in the music. Kotori said, “Not even you?”

Eli didn’t have a choice. Not really; not like Honoka. All the things she’d learned to be a Seneschal were what the country needed of her. So it didn’t matter how hard she tried, as long as she didn’t fail. That was nothing like Honoka’s burning ambition, and the lengths she went to to achieve it.

“I…”

The performance was over. Hopefuls lingered, waiting to catch a glimpse of the performer as she wound down.

“We can go see her if we’re quick,” Eli said, and strode off into the crowd again, trusting Kotori would follow her.

Eli was a crudely carved chess piece, hastily made to replace the ivory her mother and grandmother had been. Once the ruler was found, she’d be swapped back out. The gods would return from their interim and resume playing with the right pieces. And Eli would have nowhere else to go, no role to fill.

When the time came, could she really hand over her life’s work to a stranger who had never held the country’s reins?

“Eli. Eli!” Kotori’s voice cut through the blank roar in her ears, bringing her to a halt. She turned, half-blind. There was Kotori, hand curled in Eli’s sleeve, looking at her with naked concern.

Eli forced a smile. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted. Did we walk right past Honoka and Umi?”

Kotori, however, refused to be diverted. “Did I say something wrong?” she asked. Her eyes were clouded with worry. “You’ve been acting a bit strange. Are you feeling alright?”

“Fine. A little… stressed, maybe. It’s nothing to worry about.” It was hard to remember Kotori’s purpose here, sometimes. But Eli wouldn’t let her own insecurities trouble Kotori.

“Stressed,” echoed Kotori. She still looked worried. Eli couldn’t think of anything to say, but before the silence stretched too long, Kotori said, “Honoka told me you liked to dance.”

“Yes?” Eli said, thrown by the sudden topic change. Kotori looked her up and down once, then nodded decisively.

“Then let’s dance,” she said, and hooked her arm into Eli’s.

Oh, Honoka and her big mouth. Still bewildered, Eli allowed herself to be tugged away, back to the town square.

A small band of musicians was setting up where Honoka had performed, tuning their instruments. The crowd was milling into formations - no, into partners and dance circles. Kotori, beaming, dragged Eli into the very center of it.

“Wait,” Eli called, but her words were lost in the chatter. The dancing she’d learnt was ballroom dance, stately and formal, partners touching each other minimally, begun and ended with extreme courtesy.

This, judging from the ribald tune the musicians struck up, was not that kind of dancing.

Before her worry could bubble into full-strength anxiety, Kotori was there, a hand in each of Eli’s. “It’s my first time dancing,” she confided with a bashful smile. “If we’re bad, we can be bad together, okay?”

The musicians finished the introduction and launched into the first verse. Drawn along inexorably, Eli and Kotori danced.

Kotori wasn’t very good, to start with. She stepped side to side, swinging her arms like walking sticks. Even Eli knew not to do that. So she danced a little closer to Kotori, swung their arms together, until Kotori copied her and loosened.

From there, it only got better.

Kotori was a shameless dance partner; every time she pushed too far into someone else’s space, she apologised with quick words and a smile that left the stranger nodding forgivingly. She tried out anything and everything she saw. When she saw a young man lift another in the air, her eyes took on a dangerously determined look, and Eli spent five minutes spinning out of her grasp as she tried to lift Eli.

The faster her feet flew, the more her thoughts slowed. All she had left to think about was the sweaty clutch of Kotori’s hands in her own palms, the beat of the music, and the way every muscle revelled in the exertion.

Eli danced, and danced, and danced, until she was as light and empty as the lanterns lighting up the dusk.

“Do you feel better?” Kotori said, sitting down beside Eli on the boulder. Eli stared into her cup of water, mind blissfully blank.

“Yeah,” she said. Her shoulder bumped Kotori’s. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it - it was a lot of fun for me, too.” Kotori tucked Eli’s sweaty bangs out of her face with the fine care of an artist mixing paint. “Do you want to talk to me now? I’ll hear anything you say, Eli.”

Years of eloquence training deserted Eli. Unlike her tutors, though, Kotori sat quietly with infinite patience. Eventually, Eli worked the words out of her mouth: “What if the ruler isn’t good?”

What if Eli was the ruler, and she was a terrible one? Worse, unthinkably, what if the gods chose wrongly? (Not that she could say that out loud, now that being smited for blasphemy was an actual possibility. She’d have to ask Kotori to be sure, though.)

“I think that whoever sits on the throne in the end will be whoever is most deserving,” Kotori said softly. “Most fitting. The best ruler the country could have in your lifetime.”

“And - and if it’s not me?”

“Then you’ll be free to find yourself another life.” Kotori winked. “Maybe a dancer.”

Eli choked on her water. “Or a professional divine messenger guide,” Kotori added, musing over the possibilities.

“Have some faith in yourself, Eli.” Kotori’s tone gentled. “Once we finish this journey, we’ll know for sure then. And then - somebody told me something about remaking yourself every day. If I’m not done growing after thousands of years, then neither are you.”

“Thousands,” repeated Eli. Her mind tried and failed to imagine Kotori any older than Eli herself.

“I’ve done more and felt more in these weeks than I have my entire life. It’s been like waking up from a dream. …So stop looking at me like I’m _old_ , Eli,” Kotori chided with a pout.

Eli raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright… though we might have another problem now.”

“Hm?”

“Honoka and Umi have probably moved on by now. We’ve missed our chance to say goodbye,” Eli said. She felt a twinge of shame. She’d have to apologise to Honoka when they returned, and probably treat her to a meal for easy forgiveness.

“Oh,” Kotori said, drooping a little. “That’s alright. We’ll see each other again, won’t we?”

A movement in the corner of Eli’s eye caught her attention. She half-turned, hand going unconsciously to her empty sword belt. But there was nothing to worry about.

It was just Honoka, giving her a big thumbs up and an even bigger grin from behind a tree.

Eli stared. Honoka winked. Then Umi surged up from behind and seized Honoka in an expert hold, bowing her head repeatedly as she dragged Honoka away behind a building.

“Yeah… I’m sure we’ll see each other again…”

Eli wasn’t sure anymore who was meddling more in her life - the gods, or the royal baker’s daughter.


	7. Chapter 7

The northern parts of Otonokizaka, while still livable, weren’t nearly as hospitable as the southern parts. Infrastructure projects ran slowly on its mountains, and when times were hard, bandits frequented the north’s caves and jagged paths for their quick escapes.

All of this Eli knew in theory. It was another thing entirely to travel it with only one other person and a grumpy pony for company.

Said grumpy pony leaned his weight against Eli heavily. “Stop it,” Eli said with a grunt, headbutting his shoulder. Her hands were busy trying to pick yet another loose rock out of his front hoof.

“Wouldn’t it be kinder to leave him behind?” Kotori fretted and flitted about them, unable to approach for fear of startling Spica.

“We can - reshoe him at the next village - with something better for these mountains.” Eli let out a satisfied huff as she finally dislodged the rock. It clattered away merrily down the side of the mountain path. “We can’t carry everything by ourselves, even if it’s the last leg.”

Kotori hadn’t sensed anything the rest of the way up the western coast, which left them struggling across the north to reach the last corner of the country before heading home. It left a gnawing feeling in Eli’s stomach, so close to the end of their pilgrimage and yet to find anything.

Some nights, Kotori seemed to share her unease, huddling closer to the fire and watching the embers hiss without a word. Other nights, she seemed indifferent to the unsuccessful search, only concerned with making the most of their time together. 

Once, Eli brought up the idea of Kotori searching on her own over the mountains, leaving Eli to wind her way alone. Kotori shot it down with one stubborn shake of her head. “I’m staying with you,” she said, and that was it.

Eli strapped down the last piece of baggage on Spica’s back and sighed. “That should be it,” she said. “Ready to push on again?” 

Kotori nodded, staring off into the distance. But when Eli started walking, Kotori stayed still.

“Kotori?” Eli said, looking at her with concern.

“I think there’s somebody following us,” Kotori said quietly.

Every one of Eli’s senses pricked to attention. She looked in the direction Kotori was looking. “Where?” she asked, tense.

“At the top of that mountain - they pointed at us, look, now they’re coming down.”

Eli squinted. The sun-glare off the snow that lingered on the peaks dazzled, but after a few seconds, she could see what Kotori saw - a band of humans treading down a winding trail off the main road, gaining ground with alarming speed.

They were too far to count the heads, but it was obvious: this couldn’t be a fair fight. “Let’s go,” Eli said tersely. She caught Kotori’s hand and broke into a jog.

“Are they bandits?” Kotori asked, running alongside, one and a half step to each of Eli’s. Luckily, she was much fitter than she had been when they’d started their journey.

“Most likely. Save your breath, we need to -”

“Eli, they’re close!”

Eli’s head whipped around. The bandits had closed the distance at an incredible speed. Eli spat a curse as she saw another emerge out of a well-disguised hideaway in the rocks. The chances were high that they were running straight into a trap.

“Listen,” she said urgently. “If they get close, I want you to go. Run - or fly if you have to. I’ll hold them off.”

“What are you saying?” Kotori bit out, short of breath. Her eyes snapped with a rare anger.

A horn blared out of nowhere. Eli cursed in surprise and Kotori yelped; but scaring them wasn’t the main purpose of the sound.

Spica reared in terror and jerked his lead free of Eli’s hand, wheeling and plunging back along the road.

“Eli!” Kotori shouted, taking two steps after him. Eli caught her arm and winced at the sear of the rope burn left on her palm.

“Leave him - we need to get out first!”

But it was a moment’s hesitation too long. The bandits were upon them, pouring out of their rocky passages like ants boiling forth.

Eli counted in growing despair. She could take two; she could take four on a good day. With the incentive of keeping Kotori safe, if she didn’t hope to leave the battlefield herself, she could even stretch to six. But even the best fighter in the country couldn’t defeat a dozen bandits on their own.

“That’s a pretty cloak you’ve got there, lady,” said the foremost and bulkiest of them. He bared a grin sharp as his axe. “Noble, are you? Got any jewels to go with the set?”

Eli’s sword hissed free of her leather sheath. “Ooh, scary,” sniggered another bandit.

“Kotori, go,” Eli said under her breath. “Get away. Find Nico, or the Seer’s Mountain.”

“No.” Eli glanced at her; Kotori’s face was white, but she held a long staff of pale wood in her hands, summoned from nothing, and her stance was that of one who knew how to use it. “I’m not leaving you ever.”

“Kotori - “

A loud, ululating yell cut the air, and an orange blur dropped into the fray.

It landed on a bandit. The man’s scream was quickly choked as his throat opened under the thing’s claws, easy as breathing. His companions stepped back in horror.

 _Mountain cat,_ thought Eli, and used the distraction to kick a bandit off the path. His scream trailed behind him as he tumbled down the mountainside, cutting off suddenly with a muted crunch. Then Eli took a closer look. _No - human.  
_

The newcomer straightened and bared her teeth in a feral grin, clutching two wickedly curved daggers in her hands. She flashed that raw smile at Eli and Kotori before she launched forwards.

“Stay behind me!” Eli yelled to Kotori, and prayed she would listen. Then she followed the stranger’s example and charged at the closest bandit.

The burly leader bellowed his own challenge and hefted his axe. Eli sidestepped the first swing down, neat as a dancer, and stabbed him between the ribs. Blood ran over her hands.

Tragic stories always said that you were supposed to feel something the first time you killed somebody - regret, or a loss of humanity, something that changed you forever. Eli felt none of that. She had no time to.

All Eli had was a grim determination to see both her and Kotori out the other side safe and alive.

A bandit came at her from the left. As she turned, white flashed down in an arc, and Kotori’s staff struck the bandit in the head with a meaty crack. He went down like a puppet with its strings cut loose. Kotori’s teeth were bared in terrified concentration as she spun the staff back into a ready stance, guarding Eli’s back and flank.

Eli cut down a bandit who was inching around her and turned to look for the stranger. The orange blur darted through the throng, dodging with ease, bouncing off the cliff beside them to launch attacks on the bandits’ blind sides.

That meant Eli had no one to protect but herself. She breathed in, and rushed forward with a yell.

The common bandit’s skill paled before that of a knight of the realm’s. Eli fought through the throng, her sword flashing like lightning. One wild swing of a spear caught her left bicep; the pain blossomed sharp and fast, trickling down her arm in warm red streaks. Eli gritted her teeth and switched to a two-handed style.

The numbers thinned faster than she realised, and when she whirled on a skinny youth, barely out of his childhood, he was the last one left. He swung his sword at her with a hoarse yell; his voice cracked.

Eli parried, and disarmed him with a chop down his blade to the hilt, wrenching the sword out of his hands. He yelped and stepped back.

He looked younger than Eli.

“Get out of here,” she said to him, and watched him scramble down the slope to where some of his fallen companions stirred at the mountain’s base. Eli sighed and wiped her sword off on a body’s shirt.

She was tired.

“Are you alright?” Kotori was at her side when she straightened, touching her right shoulder gingerly. The staff had vanished.

“I’ll live,” Eli said. She cut cloth off carefully with her sword and, with Kotori’s help, managed to tie the wound until it stopped bleeding. She’d need to apply salves later, too - but Spica was gone, along with most of their supplies.

The stranger staggered over to them, and Eli bit back the urge to reach out in help, in case she was hostile. But then the stranger smiled and sheathed her daggers, sticking her hand out. “I’m Rin,” she said cheerfully. Her words slurred a little. There was a bruise the exact diameter of a sword pommel on her forehead.

Eli shook the offered hand. “Eli, and that’s Kotori,” she said, looking Rin over carefully. Small and wiry, she looked like your typical villager, if it weren’t for her fighting prowess and the yellow fur cloak she wore over her worn clothes. “Thank you for helping us. You seem a little unsteady, are you alright?”

Rin blew stray hair out of her face, unperturbed. “Eh, just a little bit. Rin’ll be fine. You’re bleeding, do you need help? I saw your horse run away.”

Eli made an involuntary face, thinking of their lost map. “Yes… would you happen to know where the nearest village is? I have coin, if you’ll guide us there.”

“Naw, Rin’ll do it for free! You helped out with the bandits, after all. This way!” Rin trotted ahead, and looked back at them expectantly.

Despite Eli’s misgivings - Rin swayed a little as she walked, which wasn’t the most promising - they had few other choices. Eli exhaled quietly through her nose and started to follow.

Rin obviously knew the mountains well. Without the horse to slow them down, the three ducked through narrow passageways, threaded through sparse copses and climbed a small outcropping to cross a stream at a narrower part. Rin padded through the world with as much familiarity as Eli would her castle.

For all her comfortableness in her settings, though, Rin said little. She darted glances at Kotori and Eli, but but seemed unwilling to start a conversation.

It fell to Kotori to break the ice. “You’re a really good fighter,” she said, watching Rin jump nimbly over the stream. “Where did you learn?”

Rin brightened at the praise. As if given implicit permission, the words poured out. “I taught myself here! I’ve lived here all my life, and there’s not a lot of people to give lessons, but there’s lots of bandits and someone had to do something. What about you? Are you magical? Where did your weapon go?” The last part was addressed to Kotori with wide eyes.

“Ahaha, um…”

“She’s a sort of seer… and trainee monk, travelling to the Seer’s Mountain,” Eli broke in. The lie changed a little every time it was told. Eli hoped Rin really didn’t travel far. “I’m her bodyguard for the journey.”

Rin looked at Eli and nodded gravely. “You fight really well too,” she told Eli. “Better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Don’t royal knights and soldiers come up here to chase bandits out?”

Rin’s face fell. “They do,” she admitted, “but they’re not very good. Which is why Rin’s here.”

Eli filed away a mental note: find out what was happening in the northern regions, and why patrols weren’t coming as regularly as they should. “I’m sorry to hear that,” was all she could say.

Rin shrugged with all the resignation of one who had been through the same conversation many times. “It’s okay. You can’t do anything about it, anyway.”

No, Eli couldn’t personally rid the mountains of bandits. But she definitely had the power to organise men, to arrange better guard patrols and protect her country’s people…

“We’re nearly there,” Rin said, pulling Eli back out of her thoughts. She bounced over a small pile of rocks in the middle of the path; Eli added road construction to the list of things to be done. “My village is just round the corner. Lots of people come through for the seers, so I’m sure you can find some help. If not, come with me to Kayo-chin’s!”

“Kayo-chin,” Eli repeated.

Rin swung back to them, beaming, all trace of the former pensiveness gone. “My best friend. She runs our inn and she cooks really well and she’s the nicest person ever - you can come stay with us if you want!”

Without waiting for a response, Rin turned the corner of a rock wall. Eli and Kotori followed, their steps slowing as the village emerged from the gathering dusk.

It was a small thing, circled by a head-high stone wall that looked as if it had been through better days. Smoke curled out of the few chimneys visible. Behind the village, further up the slopes, Eli could see terraced farmland creeping up the mountainsides, green and yellow and blue.

Rin was standing at the gate to the small community, waving at Kotori and Eli. Eager to enter civilisation, they picked up their pace.

“This is the cobbler’s! He made Rin these shoes just for the mountains.” Rin proudly stuck one foot right up into the air to exhibit said shoes.

“Ooh,” Kotori said, tapping a spike gingerly. Rin’s catlike battle maneuvers suddenly made a lot more sense.

“This is the barracks! The soldiers usually stay here, but they went home for the coronation.” Eli felt a pang of guilt. “This is the baker’s - you should have some of her bread, it’s really good! And - ah, Kayo-chin!”

Eli squinted. The mysterious Kayo-chin… appeared to be a four-legged, white-furred animal with a long neck, pacing delicately down the village’s main path. “Uh,” she said.

Kotori lit up as if she’d just discovered a world wonder. “What is it?!”

Rin snorted. “Oh, no, that’s not Kayo-chin. Kayo-chiiin!”

The animal turned, and the human on its other side came into view. A short, brown-haired girl with one hand tangled in the animal’s cloud-like fur waved back to Rin. Leaving her companions behind, Rin bounced forwards.

Kotori and Eli caught up in time to hear the end of Rin’s rambling explanation. “ - and they lost their horse so I brought them here to stay the night. That’s okay, right?”

“Huh? Uhm, y-yes…” Kayo-chin looked a little like a prey animal caught in the open. She bobbed her head shyly to Kotori and Eli. “N-nice to meet you. I’m the innkeeper, Hanayo Koizumi.”

“Likewise. I’m Eli, and this is Kotori. Thank you for letting us stay at your inn.” Eli nodded back, painfully aware of her stiff manner. It had sufficed the whole trip whenever they dealt with innkeepers and merchants - but to Hanayo, it felt cold.

Luckily, Kotori was there to soften Eli’s stiff introduction. “I’m Kotori! Excuse me, but what is this?” She pointed excitedly at the animal.

A little of the tension seemed to leave Hanayo’s limbs. “An alpaca,” she said, scratching affectionately at the long neck. “They only live in the mountains, so you’ve probably never seen one before?”

“No, I’ve never - ah! She’s licking me!” Kotori giggled, fingers already sinking into the alpaca’s fur. “That tickles, stop, hahaha -”

Eli grimaced as she watched the alpaca rub its head against Kotori, leaving strands of white hair all over its new favourite human. She stepped forward, extending a hand to gently push the alpaca’s nose away. “Hey, now…”

The alpaca looked up, gave an irate bleat, and spat full in Eli’s face.

Kotori and Hanayo gasped in horrified unison. Rin made a surprised honking noise. The alpaca preened.

Eli calmly wiped the spit from her face with her sleeve, and said, “I’d like to be taken to the inn now, please.”

* * *

“I smell like alpaca,” Eli complained, screwing her face up as she scribbled.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry! The alpaca didn’t mean it,” Kotori soothed. Her hands flew round and round Eli’s arm, redoing the bandage. Rin hadn’t come into the inn, running to the resident herbalist’s for Eli’s salve. Hanayo was taking the alpaca back to whatever monster cave it had spawned from.

“It was a deliberate attack. Aimed precisely for maximum embarrassment.”

Kotori giggled as she inspected her handiwork. “You’re such a baby sometimes, Eli.”

“Ex _cuse_ me,” Eli said, drawing herself up. Kotori glared.

“Sit back down, I’m not done,” she said, pointing at the chair. Eli sat and tried not to sulk. Pacified, Kotori returned to her work. “What are you writing?” 

“Things to do when I get back,” Eli muttered. “Or… for the ruler to do when we get back, I suppose.”

Kotori leaned over Eli’s head to read a few lines out loud: “Reassess remote area patrols. Evaluate financial v-viability of… renovating provincial… ehhhh…”

“Fixing the roads,” supplied Eli.

Kotori scrunched her face at Eli’s notebook and went back to playing with her hair. “I’ll leave the country-running to you… but if I may advise you, you should tell Hanayo you’re not mad at her, by the way.”

“Mad?”

“About the alpacas,” Kotori said with the patience of a saint.

Eli frowned. “Did I seem that way? I’m upset, but not at her.”

Content with her work, Kotori left the bandages alone and moved onto Eli’s hair, pulling it out of the loose ponytail. Eli’s eyelids fell involuntarily as Kotori combed steadily through the tangles. It was a little scary, how quickly Eli’s guard could drop around Kotori.

“You did look a little scary,” Kotori said, dragging her fingers against Eli’s scalp. Eli sighed a little and couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed about it. “Hmm… stern? You’ll get worry lines.”

Eli pulled a face despite Kotori being unable to see it. Somehow, Kotori knew anyway, and tapped her head in reprimand. “Bad Eli,” she scolded.

They subsided into comfortable silence as Kotori finished whatever she was doing to Eli’s hair. Left to her own thoughts, Eli wrote, barely seeing the words as her mind turned this dilemma over and over.

How to apologise? Her etiquette tutor had never covered ‘how to assure a provincial innkeeper their spitting animal has not mortally offended you’. Eli hadn’t even known their country was home to such a creature.

“All done!” Kotori said, hands leaving Eli’s hair. Eli felt along her head. It seemed like a single braid, the hair twisted into thick plaits.

Kotori winked at her. “Now you’re cute. I mean, cuter than usual - you’re always cute.”

Eli went red to the roots of her hair. “S-Same for you,” she managed.

“And now Hanayo won’t be scared of you,” Kotori added, looking immensely pleased with herself.

“I-I’m not sure it’s that simple…”

Or maybe it was. When they appeared downstairs, Kotori’s arm in Eli’s, Hanayo brightened at their appearance and hurried out of the open kitchen, dusting her hands on her apron.

“H-hello again,” she said, cheeks pink from the heat of the fire. “I’m glad you came down, I was just about to go ask - what would you like to have for dinner?”

“No communal meal?” Eli said, eyebrows raised. She looked around the inn. They were the only patrons, it seemed.

“No, guests don’t come often, and they’re all on their way to the Seer’s Mountain, s-so they don’t stay long…”

“I’m not really sure then,” Eli said - then inspiration struck her. She smiled at Hanayo. “I’ve been told you’re an excellent cook. What would the chef recommend?”

That was the right thing to say. Hanayo seemed to grow two inches taller. She assessed them with an expert eye. “Soup,” she guessed, pointing at Eli. “Vegetables or meat?”

At the thought of thick, savoury soup, Eli’s mouth almost started to water. Maybe Hanayo was a telepath. “Vegetables,” Eli chose.

“And… hmm.” Hanayo stared intently at Kotori, who fidgeted a little. “A pie, maybe?”

“Pie sounds lovely!” Kotori grinned. “You’re good at this.”

Hanayo went pinker at the compliments. “No, it’s only practice…”

“Will you eat with us?” Kotori asked, giving Hanayo her patented pleading eyes. “I’d love to hear more about the alpacas.”

“O-oh, sure! Rin too?”

“Of course!”

“Where is she?” Eli wondered. And with perfect timing, in came Rin, covered in alpaca fur.

“It’s cold,” she said piteously. “Kayo-chin, what’s for dinner?”

Forgetting her guests entirely, Hanayo hurried across the floor to help strip fur off Rin. “You should go take a bath, you’re covered in - _what is this_?”

For a second, Eli thought her grandmother had just discovered her trying to sneak back into the castle after a day of running free, and she winced instinctively. But it was just Hanayo - for certain meanings of ‘just’. All traces of shyness disappeared as she cupped Rin’s cheeks and tilted her head this way and that, inspecting the bruise on her head.

“Ish jush a bump - ow!”

“You told me you didn’t get hurt!” Hanayo said, voice climbing to shrill.

“It’s not really hurt…”

“Sit down, Rin-chan, I’m getting you cream. Don’t move!” And Hanayo was gone.

“Reminds me of a certain someone,” Eli whispered to Kotori.

“Whatever could you mean?” Kotori whispered back. At the sight of that smile, Eli wisely kept any more comments to herself.

Rin was swinging her feet, fidgety. As soon as she saw Eli’s gaze track towards her, she perked up at the chance to engage with some other activity. “Where did you come from?” she asked. “How far away is it? When do you have to leave?”

“We came from the capital,” Eli answered. Rin’s eyes went round as a moon. “We’ve been all around the country, though. We can’t stay long, I’m afraid.”

“Is that where you learnt to fight?”

“Ye-es,” Eli hedged. It was technically true, after all, even if Eli hadn’t been trained by any of the battle-schools or barracks in the city. The castle counted as part of the capital, right?

In a confidential tone, Rin told them, “When the village is safe, I’m gonna go to the capital with Kayo-chin, so we can try all the food and watch the performers. A performer came here once! Kayo-chin loved watching her, but she never came again. There’s so little to do here.”

“We saw performers on our way here too!” Kotori broke in. “They’re so pretty, aren’t they? And they sing so well. I’d love to sing like that!”

From the hallway, Hanayo gasped, “You saw performers? Was - was it Honoka and Umi? The girl in the baker’s apron?”

Kotori nodded enthusiastically. Before she could say another word, Hanayo flew across the room to grab Kotori’s hands, peppering her with a dozen questions about the performance.

 _Trust Honoka to have fans all the way up here._ Eli watched them chatter excitedly in between attending to Rin, and felt the soft tug of the connections she’d made, stretched invisible and thin over the miles. She wondered where they ended now. She wondered if those friends could feel them too.

* * *

Hanayo produced a veritable feast out of the mountain village’s limited stocks. They ate without abandon, practically licking their plates clean, as Kotori asked more questions about alpacas than Eli thought was strictly necessary.

Afterwards, Kotori and Eli insisted on helping with the dishes. “If you won’t take the extra coin, then this is the least we can do,” Eli had said, and channeled her best Stern Persona until Hanayo caved.

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have a lot of travelling supplies,” Hanayo said apologetically. “If you wanted a horse, you’d have to ask the Seer’s Mountain. Sometimes they’ll have one, sometimes they won’t.” She brightened. “I can give you an alpaca for the road up there though! If you’ll just deliver some fresh food to the seers, they’ll trade you their dried things for it.”

“That’s, uh, very kind of you,” Eli started, “but -”

“We’d love to!” Kotori exclaimed, clasping Hanayo’s hands.

“No, we wouldn’t - I mean, don’t you need to keep your livestock?”

“We have two new babies this spring, so we were going to have to think about selling one to make space. Now we can keep the babies!” Hanayo fairly glowed with parental pride.

And that was how Spica the Second joined their travelling party.

“Rin and Hanayo are nice people, aren’t they?” Kotori mumbled later that night as they preened her feathers together.

Eli hummed in agreement. As ever, she was entranced by the soft fall of down between her fingers, only half-paying attention. “They seem very close. Like Honoka and Umi, or maybe me and Nozomi when we were younger.”

Kotori’s wings twitched. “What’s Nozomi like?”

“Sweet,” Eli said. “The best hugger. Always knew what was going on in the castle. Would go on any adventure with you, no matter how big or small.” Her lips quirked subconsciously. “Never complained.”

“You love her a lot.”

“I do,” Eli agreed, revelling in the soft rush of warmth the admission gave. “Even now, after so long apart, I think I’d consider her my best friend.”

“Why did she leave?” Kotori asked.

“The Seer’s Mountain has been collecting strong seers from all over the country for a few centuries now. Word is they have some arcane project, but no one knows what it is.”

“Not even the Seneschal?” Finished with the preening, Kotori turned to lean comfortably against Eli, side to her front. Her wings came down around them like a great white cocoon.

“Not even the Seneschal,” Eli confirmed.

Kotori sat quietly for a few moments, her breath coming soft and warm against Eli’s neck. Eventually, she said, “It must be important if she left you for it.”

Eli trusted Nozomi. Whatever it was that they were doing, if Nozomi was helping - if Nozomi gave up their quiet but happy life at the castle for it, it must be a worthy cause.

Eli just wished she knew what it was, too.


	8. Chapter 8

Climbing the Seer’s Mountain was a bit like getting lost in time.

“Are we nearly there yet?” Eli said, staring blindly ahead. White mist swirled over the path, deceptively thin wisps curling over their clothes. Five paces away, it lay brittle over the world like pale stained glass. Ten, it was a solid bank only Kotori could see through.

“Not yet,” said Kotori, eyes narrowed in focus. “There’s another set of stairs coming up - watch your feet.”

Pieces of the mountain’s long history swam in and out of sight. Here, a section of wall that was more moss than stone; there, rough-hewn handrails for a steep climb, not yet weathered by time.

According to legends gathered scrap by scrap, the Seer’s Mountain was one of the places where the last King of Otonokizaka might have made his last stand. With the silent past staring at her from every side, Eli could believe it.

Ever since they’d left the mountain village behind, they’d exchange words only to guide each other over the rugged paths. Kotori had seemed to sink into herself, eyes far away beyond Eli’s reach; she wouldn’t look Eli in the eye. Eli didn’t know how to bring Kotori back, or even if she should.

So they walked on in silence, weighing each step with self-conscious care, as if their journey weren’t about to end.

Eventually, Kotori said, “I see a light.”

It was another few minutes’ walk before they came up to the lantern Kotori had spotted, but by that time, they had surfaced from the worst of the mist, and even Eli could see clearly. Several paces ahead hung another lantern from a tree branch, and another, lighting the path up and up a wide staircase. And at the top of the staircase sat the home of Otonokizaka’s seers.

White rock scrolled round and round, piled in smooth whorls like a clay pot half-finished, pointing straight at the sky, narrowing as it went. Time had worn its edges down to soft curves until the spirals were barely visible. Dark windows with occasional pale faces peppered the length of the tower, its occupants peering down at their visitors. The tower’s base swirled into the ground, and high above, the mist swallowed its top: no beginning and no end.

The largest of the doors opened without a whisper. In the doorway stood a person dressed in robes of seer’s purple, an almost sheer white veil covering their face.

Eli knew who it was before they reached up to push the veil back.

“Welcome, Elichi,” Nozomi said, eyes warm and creased with her smile. “You’re a bit later than I expected.”

“Oh, please, you knew exactly when I would come,” Eli said, and took the last stairs two at a time to catch Nozomi up and spin her in a hug.

Nozomi laughed as they whirled; it was like music to Eli’s ears after so long. She breathed in deeply and hugged tighter, even as she set Nozomi back down, tucking her head against Nozomi’s neck and feeling Nozomi smile against her ear.

“You’ve sure grown,” Nozomi said admiringly, patting the top of Eli’s head. “Not as much as Alisa has, though.”

Eli chuckled and pulled back. “How is Alisa?”

“Just fine, don’t you worry. The ceremony went off without a hitch.” Nozomi winked. “To be honest, the things you’ve been up to have been much more interesting.”

“How long have you been keeping tabs on me this time?” Eli said, fondly exasperated, thinking back along their trip. Which reminded her - “Oh, I have letters for you.”

“From Maki?” Nozomi perked up. Eli peered at her; something suddenly struck her. 

“Is that a blush I see, Nozomi Toujou?” Eli accused, squinting playfully at her friend.

“My,” said Nozomi, trying and failing not to let the blush spread. “I have no idea what you might possibly mean.”

“No wonder she had so many letters to give you…”

“Letters I can read later,” Nozomi interrupted. “Guests come first. Speaking of which - nice to meet you at last, Kotori.”

Kotori was standing behind Eli, arms wrapped around herself. She said, an uncertain waver in her voice, “You know about me?”

In response, Nozomi tapped her temple. “I know a lot of things that might happen, and also a lot of things that have happened,” she said. Her face softened with sadness… no. Pity? “I can answer your question. But won’t you come in first? You must be tired from the walk.”

Then she glanced up and added loudly, “And our acolytes are quite the busybodies too. Never have a conversation in open air here, Elichi.”

Muted giggles and the scrape of windows being shut followed Nozomi’s comment. Amused, Eli said, “Wouldn’t they See what you’re going to talk about anyway?”

“Oh, no - we don’t See each other often. Muddies things, you know, when you’re predicting what someone’s predicting; and if that someone’s better or worse than you… what a mess.” Waving off further questions, Nozomi stepped to the side and beckoned them in.

The halls were strangely quiet, for all the other Seers the tower seemed to contain. Once, Eli saw a girl being tugged around the corner by her companions. Her wide eyes rested on Kotori for a second, then were gone.

Nozomi seemed not to notice any of it, padding barefoot through her domain with confidence. Kotori did, though. Despite not saying a word, she walked right behind Eli, close as a shadow, practically tripping over Eli’s feet. Her eyes darted restlessly.

“We can use my rooms to talk in private,” Nozomi was saying, leading them up a dizzying array of stairs. “Normally we have visitor’s rooms, but I think we can drop the formalities, don’t you?”

“Are you allowed to take us wherever you want?” Eli said, trying not to sound out of breath. Nozomi must have calves of steel by now.

Nozomi winked at her. “I’m a senior Seer now. Not many people can tell me what I’m allowed to do. Oh, but I’ll do anything for Elichi, of course.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Eli scolded her mildly. There was no heart behind it, though, not when she was so, so proud of her friend. “You really are amazing, Nozomi.”

Nozomi glanced back, blushing lightly. “Thanks, Elichi. Takes one to know one, huh?”

Before Eli could think of a retort for that, they came to a sudden stop. Kotori bumped into Eli’s back and let out a small squeak of surprise. Automatically, Eli’s arm went out to steady her, pulling Kotori to her side.

“Ah,” Nozomi said dreamily, leaning against her doorframe. “Young love.”

“ _Nozomi_ ,” Eli said. Her cheeks burned. She looked down at Kotori, waiting for the cheery retort.

“Sorry,” Kotori said quietly instead, eyes on the floor. Eli’s gut twisted.

“Kotori? What’s wrong?” 

Kotori’s mouth opened, but the words seemed to stall. After a long moment, she said, “Eli, I… I lied to you, when we met. I didn’t mean to keep it from you for so long, I just - I’m so sorry.”

Eli stood still. When Kotori swallowed, throat bobbing, Eli could hear it in the silence that had fallen. “What,” she said faintly. “About, about what?”

Kotori shrank in on herself a little more, and Eli’s limp arm fell from around her waist. “About why I was here,” she said in a voice barely bigger than a whisper.

“I don’t understand,” Eli said, because she didn’t. What was going on, what could Kotori be lying about -

“Oh dear,” Nozomi sighed, and Eli looked at her helplessly. “Elichi will never understand unless you say it bluntly, Kotori. You should ask your question.”

Kotori nodded, shutting her eyes tight for a second. When she opened them again, there was a determined edge to her expression. She said, “Where are the gods? Or am I the only one left?”

…

* * *

Technically, nothing had changed for centuries, and nothing would change now that Eli had had a glimpse of the truth. She wasn’t even all that religious. If Kotori hadn’t appeared, her fleeting thought of finding the rightful ruler would have come and gone, with no more seriousness than a daydream.

None of that stopped Eli from feeling as though the world’s foundations had disappeared from under her feet, and she was falling, falling.

* * *

Nozomi was pouring them tea, calm and clear as glass. “The Seer’s Mountain helps train Seers and teach them how to control their abilities, it’s true,” she said as she dropped sugar into Eli’s tea and stirred it in. “But the Seers who could See what it was going to try to do came to help, not to be helped.

“We wanted to find out what happened to the Hungry King, and why the gods disappeared, and if they were ever going to come back. It wasn’t just a legend, you know: the famines he caused, his rebellion against the gods, the Seneschal who stopped him.”

“Yes, I know,” Eli whispered, staring into her tea. “I’ve been living in its shadow all my life.”

Nozomi paused and dipped her head in acknowledgment. “And for Kotori here, it was just like yesterday. Wasn’t it, Kotori?”

Eli looked up slowly. Kotori was sitting with her hands folded in her lap, staring at somewhere around Eli’s feet. “Yes,” she admitted.

Nozomi patted Kotori’s knee comfortingly. “We still don’t know everything,” she said, low and gentle, as if calming a spooked horse. “It would help, if you could tell us - tell Elichi.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Kotori whispered, looking desperately afraid. “I tried telling Eli - just a little bit, about the heavens, but she - “ She shook her head.

“I didn’t understand,” Eli said numbly, thinking back to that unreal night. “At least, at the time I didn’t. I think a little bit of it made sense later after I slept.”

“But you didn’t go mad,” Nozomi said in a reasonable tone.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“In all the old stories, unless you were an oracle or a ruler, you went mad if you tried to hear or read testimonies about the heavens. Except you obviously didn’t,” Nozomi said matter-of-factly. “And Kotori, didn’t you hurt yourself a while back, and couldn’t heal yourself?”

“How did you kn- oh. Well, yes…”

“This is only a guess,” said Nozomi, putting down her teacup, “but you might not be entirely, well, godly anymore. How much time did other messengers spend on the mortal plane?”

“Not much, only enough to say what they needed to.” Kotori hesitated, then added, “I know there’s been others who fell in love with humans and left, or were exiled. They became mortals, but I always thought it was a choice.”

“Being a living thing means changing. Sometimes for better, sometimes for worse - but nothing stays the same forever.” Nozomi looked fondly at the plants scattered around her small living room. “Living in our realm must be affecting you. Which means… you might forget some things, but you could probably talk about the heavens now, if you’d like.”

“W-what if I can’t?”

Nozomi shrugged with complacent acceptance, and said, “If Elichi survived, I’m sure I will too. Well, just do your worst, okay?”

And so, the truth.

“The gods move slowly,” Kotori began. “They don’t notice things that happen too fast. Like with the King; one moment everything was fine in the mortal world, and the next, thousands of prayers were being sent up every day.

“I’m… I mean, I was only a inter-god messenger. I’m not even really sure what the King was trying to do, or why the gods were worried. But the King managed to kill a lot of the cross-world messengers the gods sent, and the rest were too busy, so they - they asked me to go. To tell him that if he didn’t stop, the gods would raze his lands and destroy his family.”

Kotori’s face was pale. “Except when I arrived, the only person there was you,” she said, looking Eli in the face for the first time that day. “And you told me he was dead. And I didn’t know what to do.” She stuttered a laugh, high with nerves. “I suppose that meant I was a terrible messenger, somehow arriving so late.

“But when I - when I tried to go back, I couldn’t find the way. So I thought, if there were any other gods or messengers who had been here recently, if I could sense them and follow their trail back… and then you asked me if I would guide you to the ruler.”

It made sense. It made so much sense, Eli could kick herself for not realising Kotori’s fear, for not seeing her early cheer for the desperate mask it was.

Eli couldn’t even trust herself to know when Kotori had put the mask aside for good. Or if she ever had.

“I just didn’t want to go alone,” Kotori said. She pulled her cloak, Eli’s cloak, tightly around her shoulders and tucked her chin down until her hair shadowed her face. “There was no ruler. I’m… I’m sorry I lied to you, Eli.”

Eli Ayase was the greatest fool in the world.

“The Seers’ biggest project in the past few decades has been trying to See what really happened to make the gods disappear nine hundred years ago,” Nozomi said, smoothing over Kotori’s silence. “In some ways, it’s easier; the past is fixed, so you only See exactly what happened, compared to the future. The only problem was trying to go back so far.

“From what we can tell, the King wanted to cut off the gods permanently, so he could use his powers however he liked without their interference. To sever the connection between worlds, so to speak; I won’t bore you with the theory.” A wry grin. “I barely understand it myself.

“Well, he succeeded, but died in the effort. Except no spell lasts forever. Slowly but surely, it’ll unravel, until the gods come back one day.”

“Like Kotori did,” Eli said. Her throat was a desert. With numb hands, she picked up her tea again.

“Kotori was probably caught in the connection just as it was closed, which is why she’s first. And everybody gets a little more religious, dreams a little more about a heaven-blessed ruler when a Seneschal’s about to go on their pilgrimage. If the block’s going to be weakened, then it would be at a time like this, don’t you think?”

“So none of the others have been back,” Kotori said in a small voice. The muscles in her forearms jumped with tension. “I… I should’ve known, shouldn’t I? It was horrible of me, dragging you along with me.”

“No,” Eli said, hurting and seeing Kotori hurt. “No, I - you didn’t - “ She was the one who hadn’t seen what was wrong. She was the one too wrapped up in her own insecurities. She reached out for Kotori, trying to bridge the gap the only way she had left. Kotori looked up into Eli’s eyes and flinched at Eli’s distraught look.

And Kotori ran from her.

Before Eli’s hand landed, Kotori was out of her seat, tea spilling over the sides of the cup. “I have to,” she said, shaking, “I’m sorry, I need to - “ and then she set the cup down and darted out the door and Eli was left behind, watching her retreat, helpless.

Eventually, Eli realised Nozomi’s hands were on Eli’s shoulders, guiding her back down into her seat from where she’d half-risen in dismay, pushing Eli’s uselessly stretched-out hand back to her side.

“Give her a bit of time,” Nozomi advised, settling herself beside Eli and rubbing Eli’s back soothingly. “She won’t go far, don’t worry. And she probably wants to be alone for a bit.”

Anybody else, Eli would have shrugged off. But this was Nozomi and Nozomi always knew what to do when Eli didn’t. So Eli let out a shaking exhale and let Nozomi fuss quietly over her. She barely felt her touch; like an animal in the grip of a storm, she tucked her head against Nozomi’s shoulder and waited for her thoughts to fall into some semblance of order again.

“I’m so stupid,” she whispered.

Nozomi said nothing; she only waited. Nozomi and her blessed intuition. Good, because Eli wasn’t finished with herself.

“I’m an idiot,” Eli repeated. Anger boiled up in her throat like an angry cloud of bees, and she slammed her fist against her knee. “How did I not - I’m the worst, the worst - “

Partner? Lover? Girlfriend? What was she, if she couldn’t even see Kotori’s struggle, if Kotori couldn’t even tell her this truth?

With a convulsive shudder, she shrugged Nozomi’s gentle arms off, burying her face in her hands. She didn’t deserve comforting.

But Nozomi made a quiet shh-ing sound and drew Eli back relentlessly. “Maybe you made mistakes, but you didn’t make all of them,” she said, soft but firm. “There are at least two people in a relationship. Kotori sounded sorry too, didn’t she?”

Eli shook her head, then couldn’t seem to stop. “She’s- she’s kind, of course she’d say sorry, but I was the one who didn’t listen to her enough.” It took effort to work the words through the lump in her throat, but Eli didn’t know anymore, and if anybody else could, it would be Nozomi: “What if she never–if she only did it to get along with me, what if she never l-loved- “

“Elichi,” said Nozomi, and Eli stilled at the silk-wrapped steel in her voice. “I don’t need magic to see she’s head over heels for you. And do you really think she would be the kind of person to play with your feelings like that?”

She was right. Eli forced herself to take a deep breath, recentering herself. No matter what Kotori did to get into Eli’s good or bad graces, Eli would still protect her as the gods’ messenger. Kotori knew that. Anything else they felt, did or said must have had nothing to do with duty.

“Are you mad at her?” Eli asked in a small voice. She didn’t want her two favourite people to fight.

Nozomi tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Hmm… I’m not the happiest that she kept it from you, but the truth itself didn’t hurt you, just the hiding, yes? Then I’d be a hypocrite to scold her for running away.”

It took a moment for Eli to understand. “I’ve told you that you don’t owe my future to me,” she sighed, not for the last time. “You don’t owe it to anyone to tell them exactly what you know. I thought we’ve already been over this.”

Nozomi smiled at her. Eli immediately got the familiar feeling that she’d said and done exactly what Nozomi had wanted her to. “I think so too,” Nozomi said cheerily. “Remember to tell her what you just told me, okay?”

“Do I talk to her now?”

“When you’re ready,” Nozomi said, nonjudgmental as always. “She’s not far, just on the roof; take the main stairs and you’ll be there in no time.”

Eli nodded. Just a moment more, then, to rub her eyes and gather her courage, so she could approach Kotori with a clear heart.

Then she realised something. “Oh, gods,” she whispered. “I really am going to be the next ruler, aren’t I?”

For the first time Eli could remember in years, Nozomi looked surprised. So when Nozomi burst into giggles, of course, Eli had no choice but to follow her.

* * *

Kotori sat on the very edge of the roof, arms wrapped around her knees. Eli pushed down her instinctive prickle of fear. Of all the people in the world, Kotori was probably the safest there.

Instead, Eli scuffed her way across the flat circle of the tower’s roof, letting Kotori hear her approach. Under her cloak, Kotori’s wings shifted, but she made no other sign.

“Hey,” Eli said, settling cautiously onto her haunches beside and slightly behind Kotori.

Kotori peeked at her, half her face hidden by her arms. “Hi,” she whispered, and glanced away again. The circle of her arms tightened.

All of Eli’s careful preparations vanished like morning mist in sunlight in the face of a downcast, guilty Kotori. Instead, she said the first thing that came into her mind: “I think I knew we weren’t going to find the ruler.”

Slowly, Kotori’s eyes came back round to rest on Eli. Eli readjusted her seat - two, three inches closer - and nodded. “I don’t know why,” she said, almost to herself. “It just… didn’t feel real. Even though I was the one who wished for it. And–I think I’m glad we didn’t find them.”

“You’ll make a wonderful ruler.” Kotori scrunched into herself a little tighter. “You’re so intelligent, and so brave, and you work so hard - no one’s more qualified than you.”

Eli chuckled quietly. “It’s probably a good thing I didn’t have to hand the reins over to someone else, actually. If they weren’t absolutely perfect at it, I don’t know what I’d do. The second deposing of the Otonokizaka throne, maybe.”

“You’re not… upset that I tricked you?” Ever so slightly, Kotori uncurled. “I- I took advantage of you. I made you travel with me because I didn’t tell you everything.”

“I would have travelled with you anyway,” Eli said, scooting close enough to tentatively bump her shoulder against Kotori’s. “A beautiful woman appearing in front of me, asking me for help? How could I refuse?”

Involuntarily, Kotori giggled, and then sniffed. This close, Eli could see the unshed tears clinging to her eyelashes; she itched to wipe them away.

“Pretty or not,” Eli continued, sobering, “I would have gone with you. Even if you told me the truth about what you were looking for, I would have gone with you.”

“Because of your duty.”

“No,” Eli said. Well, it was partially true - but only partially, and she realised it as she went on. “In the beginning, yes. But later, no.”

Kotori dared to let her eyes slide towards Eli again. “Then, why…”

“Because you wanted me to, and I could, and I wanted to,” said Eli, pulling scant words from the whirlwind of her thoughts, finding her path as she went. “Because I, I wanted to see you happy. And it made me happy too, seeing you happy. So if I seemed upset, it wasn’t at you. It was only because I thought–I failed, I didn’t pay enough attention to see what you were feeling.”

Then, abrupt as a turn in a road, Eli came to an end. There was nothing left she knew to say. She could only wait for Kotori to meet her halfway.

“You know,” Kotori offered, only the tiniest of hitches in her voice, “I think I knew too. That the gods weren’t here. But I just… I didn’t want to give up. So I couldn’t find a time to tell you. It was my fault, not yours.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I just never wanted our journey to end.”

“Me neither.” It tasted like a confession when she said it at last. The past two years of grief, healing, acceptance, preparation - Eli hadn’t had anything to herself for a long time. And once she did, she only got greedier and greedier, chasing their journey over the horizon for one more scrap of happiness with Kotori, until she almost forgot what they were there for.

At last, Kotori unfurled from her tight ball. She leaned against Eli’s shoulder: her wings whispered free of her cloak, and her legs swung over the edge of the tower. Eli felt her shoulder warm and leaned into it, too.

“But no more keeping things like that to yourself,” added Eli. “I mean - if it’s your secret to hold, then by all means, hold it. But I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t tell me something. I promise, I’ll always listen.”

Kotori nudged her head up to look at Eli. “Even if the truth hurts?”

“Hurts less than finding out someone dear to me’s been struggling alone.”

With an abashed yet pleased smile (finally, her smile, Eli missed it so), Kotori reached up and cupped her hands around Eli’s face. “You sweet-talker,” she said, and kissed her.

Eli’s heart thumped once at the first touch of Kotori’s lips, and then again at the fading taste of tear-salt, but Kotori was kissing her so intently and so thoroughly that she couldn’t feel anything else after that. She was supposed to tell Kotori more - she wasn’t finished - except the soft slide of Kotori’s tongue told her yes, she was finished, quiet now.

When Kotori pulled back, they were sitting hip-to-hip, Eli breathless and uncaring of the precipice inches from her.

“Wait,” said Kotori, still watching Eli’s mouth. “I was going to tell you something.”

“Can’t it wait?” Eli said hopefully, half to see Kotori pout at her.

“No, we need to talk about it.” Kotori pulled her hands away. Her fingers trailed over Eli’s cheekbones; Eli let herself tremble just a little. There was a curl to Kotori’s smile that suggested she knew exactly what she was doing, but it faded as Kotori took Eli’s hands in hers.

“I think,” Kotori began carefully, “that we should travel separately for a bit.”

Eli couldn’t breathe. Her heart dropped out of her stomach. Kotori quickly tacked on, “Not for long! I just thought… I wanted to know I can do it on my own. You’ve been taking care of me this whole time, but if you’re becoming the ruler, then you won’t always have time for me.”

“I’ll make time,” Eli said heatedly, but she knew it was impossible even as she said it. Kotori was right. She didn’t like it, but Kotori was right. She faded, trying and failing not to imagine all the ways she could have to choose between her country and her love.

Kotori saw, of course. She tangled her fingers with Eli’s. “You can’t, Eli, that’s okay. You shouldn’t have to. You’ve already done so much for me. You’ve shown me the world. But I need to do this, for me, so I can come back and stand by your side and feel like I belong.”

A dozen rejoinders came to the forefront of Eli’s mind. She was already enough, Eli didn’t want her to go - but with a clench of her jaw, she drove them all back. This wasn’t about her. This was about Kotori. “Nine days,” Eli said, looking into Kotori’s eyes. “I’ll be back at the castle for my coronation then. You know how to find it?”

Kotori nodded, and leaned in to kiss Eli once more, chaste and light. “I’ll come back to you,” she promised.

They sat there alone as their shadows lengthened into the afternoon - for how long, Eli couldn’t tell, storing up soft touches and murmured words for the time apart. 

But in the end, there could be no delaying the inevitable.

They helped each other up, dusting specks of dust off their clothes and tucking stray hair back into place. Kotori opened her arms for one last hug; Eli went, like a moth to the lamp, tucking her head down against Kotori’s, the circle of Kotori’s arms the bowers of Eli’s world for a few last blissful seconds.

And then Kotori moved back to spread her wings. Behind her back, the whole world lay open, offering itself up to them.

“I’ll see you soon, then,” said Kotori, giving Eli one last wistful smile.

“See you soon,” repeated Eli, already feeling the connection between them straining, stretching-

Up went Kotori’s wings: down they came, and the gust of wind sent Eli’s bangs awhirl. Kotori leapt into the air, dropping from Eli’s view for one stomach-dropping second, before she rose above the tower’s edges-

“I love you,” Eli said, too late-

But Kotori heard. Eli knew from the turn of her head, the tiny ‘o’ her mouth made, before distance hid the details from Eli’s weak human eyes. Kotori could still see, though, so Eli stood there, mouthing the words again once, twice, until Kotori was too far to look back.

The bright sail of her white wings shrank and shrank until Eli no longer knew whether she was looking at Kotori or at a wisp of cloud. Still, she stood there, as if no harm could come to Kotori while Eli watched over her, no matter how far.

When the sun dropped and her eyes ached, Nozomi was waiting for Eli at the rooftop door.

“If you love it, let it go, hm?” she said, arms already opening to fold Eli into her uniquely Nozomi hugs.

Eli only let herself indulge for a few moments before pulling away. “Sorry for keeping you waiting,” she said ruefully.

“Oh, that’s fine - I had plenty of letters to occupy myself with after all.”

“Couldn’t you just have Seen them?”

“Ah, but where would be the fun in that?”

They shared a quiet laugh, Eli shaking her head bemusedly. Nozomi and Maki - only two people as persistent and stubborn as they could make it work.

“I’d better start thinking about how to get back,” Eli sighed. If Kotori could live in a new world on her own, Eli could go and rule the country she’d prepared for her whole life. “Would you happen to have any horses and supplies I could borrow?”

Nozomi’s eyebrows danced. “About that - there’s a visitor downstairs for you.”

The visitor, as it turned out, was a very small and irate knight.

“Took you long enough,” grumbled Nico, laid out across Nozomi’s couch. “You two sure led me on a fun chase.”

“Nico? What are you doing here?”

“Looking after your dumb ass,” Nico said, downing the rest of her cup in one go. “Listen, if you’re going to go around showing your weird travelling companion to people you know, you gotta know they’re gonna ask questions. Do you know how many favours I had to promise Maki not to dig?”

“You’ve been following us?” Eli said, feeling a little faint.

“No, I was just going to let you wander off with a girl who doesn’t even know how to tie shoelaces,” said Nico, rolling her eyes hard enough Eli worried she’d strain something.

Then it occurred to Eli. “Ah… how much did you see…?”

Nico made a mocking thoughtful sound. “That fight with the bandits? You’re training with me every morning for a month after we get back, Ayase. Oh, and I saw your girlfriend flying off to who-knows-where just now.”

“Uh,” said Eli. “About that. Kotori’s, um…”

“Don’t worry, I got the run-down from Nozomi already.” Nico looked at Eli. Deep in her eyes, there was a hint of worry, even if she’d never say it out loud. “Are you two all good? She seems like fun to keep around, I’d hate to lose out on talking to her now.”

Beautiful, blessed Nico. “Yeah,” Eli said. “She just needs some time alone. We should meet back at the capital.”

“Nice. Do you have anything else you need to do?”

On instinct, Eli looked around the room, as if she’d find her responsibilities hiding under Nozomi’s furniture. But she couldn’t think of one more reason to keep the journey going. “No,” she said, trying not to sound forlorn. “No, it’s time to go home.”

“Well, the mountain’s pretty safe, so I think we can get down to the village at least before we sleep. I brought a horse for you too.” Nico wrinkled her button nose. “And that… alpancake thing, are we taking it back too?”

That got a laugh out of Eli. “I don’t know anything about it, it’s Kotori’s,” she denied.

“A little bit of relationship advice,” Nozomi said serenely. “Keep the alpaca.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” said Eli. Nozomi only smiled her Seer smile at her. “Ugh - fine, yes, I will take the alpaca home.”

* * *

At the stairs to the Seers’ temple, light spilled out onto the mountain path, soaking into the darkness. The land smudged into the dark sky, lit only by the first stars coming out, as beyond reach as they were one night when Eli lay under the night sky and dreamed of an angel’s loneliness.

“Are we going to be okay?” Eli whispered to herself.

Nozomi stepped up beside her. There was a twinkle deep in her eyes. She said, “Are you?”

It didn’t take long for Eli to find an answer she liked. “Yes,” she said, and meant it. “Yes. We’re going to be just fine.”


	9. Chapter 9

“Hello,” Kotori said, trying her best to seem confident and not unspeakably nervous when the door opened. “Remember me?”

Hanayo gasped and opened the door fully. “Kotori! Come in, come in - how was your trip? Did the Seers say good things?”

“I think so…”

Hanayo giggled softly. “They’re a little strange, aren’t they?” she agreed. “But I think the things they tell you, they always turn out well in the end. Give it time.”

“Mmh.” Kotori twisted her hands. She’d get nowhere if she didn’t speak up… “Um, I was actually wondering! Did you want someone to help out? With the alpacas, and the inn?”

Hanayo blinked at her. “You mean, to hire you…?” she said slowly.

“Yes,” said Kotori, latching on to Hanayo’s hesitation with desperate eagerness. “I don’t know much, but I’m a fast learner - and um, I won’t be around long anyway, so if you can’t pay me that’s fine too, I’m sure I can manage…” Except she wasn’t sure if she could manage, why did she say that?

“Is Eli not with you?” Hanayo said curiously, peering past Kotori. “I thought you two were- “ Her hands flew to her mouth. “O-Oh no, did you two have a fight?”

“No, not really; I just thought we should travel separately for a bit.” Kotori glanced at her fingers, fiddling with the edge of Eli’s cloak. “I can’t keep relying on her,” she said softly.

Eli, who gave so much with a smile. Eli, who never asked for anything in return. Eli, who had a million things she could be doing, and instead, she spent her time and attention on Kotori, who only slowed her down.

“…I could use someone to help me herd the alpacas for a day or two,” Hanayo said. She was smiling warmly at Kotori. “Just so I have a bit of time to organise my spring stocks here. Not many people volunteer to look after the alpacas, and they don’t get along with just anyone either, you know.”

* * *

Sprawled on the grass, Kotori blew her bangs out of her eyes. Mr Alpaca looked up from his grazing to bleat at her.

“Having a job isn’t really what I thought it’d be like, Mr Alpaca,” she told him. The white animal chewed idly, looking away when it was clear Kotori had no food for him.

The only thing Kotori had to do was keep the alpacas from wandering off too far along the mountain’s meagre pastures - but that was hardly a task. They knew their routine better than Kotori did.

Which left Kotori with plenty of time to think alone.

She rolled the stout crooked staff in her hand, watching it spin over her face. Hanayo had given it to her to fend off predators. “But it’s only happened two or three times since I’ve been looking after them, so don’t worry!” she’d said.

Kotori’s own weapon would be more than enough for a job like that. But Hanayo showed her how to hook stuck alpacas out of bushes, and how to dig the staff into the mountain slopes to haul herself after the nimbler animals. Humans really were ingenious.

The cloud scudded across the pale blue sky, dimmer and yet so much livelier than the heavens’ infinite but unmoving horizons. Kotori watched them go. Maybe she would follow them across the ocean, to see where clouds went when night fell and everything slept.

Unbidden, these thoughts swam to the top of her mind: Eli’s blue, blue eyes; fingers in her sand-crusted feathers; a first kiss Kotori never thought she’d have.

* * *

At Hanayo’s invitation, and then her insistence, Kotori stayed for another day, being fed copiously by a fussing Hanayo. “You’re too skinny,” Hanayo scolded gently, heaping more mashed potatoes onto Kotori’s plate.

Was she even capable of gaining weight? Kotori eyed her bony forearms critically. Well, if Hanayo’s cooking didn’t make her, nothing else could.

By the end of her stay, Kotori knew how to pack the alpacas for their daily trip up to the Seers’ to deliver supplies, how to trim the alpacas’ nails, and even how to handle births. (Though, to her great disappointment, one never happened; Hanayo was simply overprotective of her children and wanted even her part-time help to be prepared.)

* * *

“It’s not much,” Hanayo said apologetically, handing Kotori a small bag of coins. They clinked satisfyingly when Kotori hefted them in her palm. “But, um, I made sure you had enough for the next week.”

Kotori pocketed it gratefully. “Thank you so much. I had a lot of fun - can I come back, maybe? You don’t have to pay me,” she added as an afterthought.

Hanayo looked ready to cry. She sniffled, “I’ll always welcome alpaca lovers.”

“Next spring, then.” Kotori shouldered her bag, stepping backwards. “I’ll see you then!”

“Travel safely!”

The next cliff Kotori found, she looked around for other humans. When she saw none, she let out a long sigh and tipped forwards into the mountain winds.

Her wings snapped out, the air currents solid under her. She soared through Otonokizaka’s skies without a worry for who might see her so high up.

Even with the coins weighing down her pocket and the bag sitting heavy between her shoulderblades, Kotori felt freer than she ever had.

* * *

“Fresh pike, fresh pike, three coppers a head!”

“Would you like to have your fortune told? Only a silver to know your future!”

“New boots, last of the winter stock, get your new boots now!”

“Sorry!” Kotori sidestepped a bulky man, only to bump into a mother with her pack of children in tow. “A-ah, sorry, sorry!”

The port city across the ocean channel from Otonokizaka, Numazu, had the most living souls in one place Kotori had ever seen. It set her blood racing in excitement, seeing all the wares laid out and all the humans bustling about their business.

But without Eli to serve as her human shield, Kotori was annoying quite a few people.

What did Eli use to do? Kotori squared her shoulders, tucked her chin down, and glared into the crowd. She thought, Eli - and she strode into the crowd.

Two steps in, a street urchin crashed into her and ran off yelling apologies, leaving Kotori on the cobble path blinking. So much for that.

A roar cut through the hubbub of Numazu’s markets. “Get back here, brat!” bellowed a stall-keeper covered in fabric. “You mess it up, you pay for it!”

The colours shimmered invitingly, yellow on purple on green in a vibrant clash no god would be caught dead in. Kotori moved closer, entranced.

The merchant saw her looking and sighed. “Were you looking to buy something, miss?” she said, shaking out a length of cloth and folding it neatly. “Sorry about the mess, would you mind waiting a moment?”

“O-Oh, no, I wasn’t going to buy, I just thought…” With the merchant’s expectant eyes on her, Kotori flushed. She mumbled, “I just thought it was pretty so I wanted a closer look.”

“You have a good eye, miss. The best cloth this side of the country!” said the merchant, rolling the ‘r’ with a flourish. She gave her wares a proud look, then deflated. “But it’s going to take the whole morning to sort them back out again. May as well write today off…”

“Can I help?” Kotori asked, already reaching down to pick up a long, thin bolt of blue - Ayase blue, she thought, before she was distracted by the smooth run of the fabric through her fingers.

“Aah… I don’t mind if you do, but frankly, I don’t know how much help you’ll be. I sort by thread count - I’ll need to feel all of these, to see which are higher, and it’s tough for a beginner to tell the difference.”

Kotori looked at the cloth in her hands, and at the one the merchant was holding. If she ignored the play of light over the tiny threads, focused on the tiny pinprick dips of shadow… “This one has a higher count than the one you’re holding, doesn’t it?” she said, shaking out the blue cloth.

The merchant’s eyebrows raised. She rubbed the fabric in her hand between her fingers, then reached for Kotori’s. “You have a good eye,” she repeated, looking at Kotori with new eyes. “You a merchant, too?”

“No, just, um, good eyesight like you said.” More like inhuman eyesight, but Kotori preferred not to quibble over the details.

“What about these?” Kotori stared at the two fabrics the merchant held out, then pointed at the left one. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the merchant said admiringly. “Listen, miss, if you help me sort all these, I’ll be done in the hour. I’ll pay you for it. Ten silvers, what do you say?”

Kotori started to accept, but then thought fast. “Fifteen,” she said, smiling innocently at the merchant and turning her full charm on. She might not be able to intimidate like Eli, but she had her own skills.

“Twelve.”

“Twelve, and a little cut of this one.” Kotori measured out a thin strip of the blue cloth still in her hands. It would make a lovely hair ribbon, to go with a certain someone’s ice-blue eyes.

“Deal.” The merchant stuck her hand out, and Kotori shook it. A second later, the merchant lost her eagle-eyed business face and broke into a grin. “Maybe you should consider being a merchant, miss.”

Kotori thought about what lay at the end of her meandering path. “That’s okay,” she said. “I don’t want to go too far. There’s someone waiting for me, after all.”

* * *

Rooms were cheap in the thriving port city, and with so many travellers coming to and fro, Kotori was just one more quiet customer. In the mornings, she visited the cloth merchant, who seemed glad for an attentive pupil with fast hands. In the afternoons, Kotori wandered through the streets aimlessly. Snippets of conversation floated past her ears. It was easy to let herself sink into the quiet flow of human life, to listen without hearing and wrap gathered scraps of knowledge around her divine soul until she could almost forget the terrible splendour of the heavens.

“…Seventeen coppers for a half-dozen apples, it’s outrageous…”

“…says he doesn’t want to go to the auditorium even though he’s got…”

“Mama, mama, the bird’s coming closer…”

“…saw the Seneschal…”

Jerked to a stop as if caught on a fishhook, Kotori glanced around until she found the source of the comment, and focused on them, idling at a crowded sweets shop to disguise her eavesdropping.

“…along the northern road to the capital, he said.”

“Heading back at last? Good - the old Lady Seneschal deserves her rest.”

“You heard about the stories though?”

“What, her travelling alone with another girl? Rubbish. Seneschals don’t wander around the countryside like you and me.”

“I’m serious - he said Lady Eli threw him out of an inn. Had the bruises to look it, too.”

“Not every pretty blonde is an Ayase, you know. Your man was drunk off his…”

Kotori muffled a giggle. If only they knew it was true. But only Kotori and Eli knew for sure what had happened on the road they’d walked, like a secret kept between the two of them.

All her life, Kotori had carried secrets for others. This was the first time she had one of her own; it only weighed light as a dream.

“Oi,” said the merchant at the stall, chin propped on his hand and eyeballing Kotori curiously. “Are you gonna buy or what, lady?”

“Huh? Oh!” Kotori scanned the wares. Loopy script caught her eye: ‘Chocolates - milk’; it sparked a memory. “I’ll take that one, please.”

* * *

Chocolates, it turned out, melted.

The small paper package depressed under her questing fingertips. She wrinkled her nose at the sensation, but peeled the paper off gamely. No sense leaving it to liquidise; it’d be a waste.

All things considered, the chocolate had survived Kotori’s flight across the ocean and then her walk pretty well. It drooped around the edges and left brown whorls on Kotori’s fingertips, but it held together as she lifted it to eat.

It was sweeter than she’d expected. She winced as her teeth ached at the first bite; but as the chocolate melted on her tongue, rich and warm… she could see its appeal.

Sooner than she’d expected, it was all gone, and she was licking the last of the melted chocolate off her fingers. All in all, a good purchase.

If only she could have shared it with Eli like she’d intended. 

* * *

High up in the belly of the clouds, Kotori could drift on the currents, wings stretched to their fullest like a seabird’s. Mindless flying with no destination in mind was something she’d never been allowed before. A messenger flew to deliver messages, If there were no messages, then the messenger was next to useless; better to clear the skies for higher-ranked deities. Flying was a means to an end and nothing more.

Except now Kotori could go wherever she wanted, to see whoever she liked, and the only person who could control her was herself.

And what she really wanted was to find someone.

It took a morning of gliding and searching ceaselessly, but eventually Kotori picked out a small wagon drawn by two ponies. She bit her lip, judging distances. If she came out of those trees, then the wagon would catch up in half an hour or less…

Kotori crossed her arms, leant forward, and nosedived towards the earth.

 _Back straight, arms in, head down._ The wind howled around her ears, streaming her hair out behind her; she could feel the air pressure weighing down on her, so much heavier, more physical than the stagnant skies of the heavens. It set Kotori’s pulse rabbiting as she felt her stomach drop.

For the first time, Kotori thought: she loved flying.

* * *

“Kotori? Kotoriiiii!”

Honoka’s voice carried over the rattle of their ponies’ harnesses and the creaks of the wheels. Kotori stopped mid-step, turning back, smile already growing unbidden on her face. She waved to the excited performer.

Within a minute, Umi pulled the wagon to a halt beside Kotori. “What a pleasant surprise,” she said, giving Kotori a nod. “We didn’t expect to see you again on the road.”

“Me neither,” Kotori lied with barely a twinge of guilt. A white lie here and there couldn’t hurt, at least until she and Eli figured out what exactly they were going to tell the public about Kotori.

“Huh? Where’s Eli?” Honoka hopped down from the wagon, looking around.

“I had a little bit of business to take care of, but I’m on my way back to the capital now. We said we’d meet there.”

Honoka brightened. “Wanna come with us? We’re heading there too - for the coronation, right? You shouldn’t travel alone! See, Umi’s my bodyguard.”

“If only you applied your magic to more practical defense uses,” Umi said, hand falling to the bow at her side. Honoka frowned at her.

“I only want to use it to make people happy,” she protested. “That’s why I need you, Umi!”

Kotori was treated to the sight of Umi flushing from cheeks to collarbone. “A-anyway.” Umi cleared her throat. “You’re welcome to travel with us, Kotori.”

Honoka boosted her up onto the wagon, and sat nestled on her right, Umi to her left. With unconscious familiarity, Honoka’s elbow knocked against Kotori’s; every time Kotori turned her head, her long hair fell over Umi’s shoulder. But neither of them seemed to mind the casual touches as Honoka chattered and Umi retorted with barbless comments.

Without meaning to, Kotori found herself talking too, sharing stories from her travels and laughing at Honoka’s antics. They accepted her as if she’d been sitting there for days, not hours.

It was one more anchor to the world. Warm, no longer drifting aimlessly, Kotori piled her feet on Honoka’s propped ones and leaned into Umi as she giggled, and she was happy.

* * *

The capital buzzed with eager activity as Otonokizaka’s people gathered for their Seneschal’s coronation. Kotori waved down Honoka and Umi’s offer to share an inn room. “I have someone waiting for me,” she said, winking. Umi cycled through regretful, chagrined, embarrassed, and curious in a second, which Kotori noted down as one of the more impressive human things she’d seen.

Finding the castle wasn’t hard: follow the stream of people towards the tallest tower in the city. It was getting in, though, that was the problem.

“No, really, Eli will see me,” Kotori pleaded with the guard. He only looked down his nose at her.

“The _Lady Seneschal Eli_ is quite busy on the day of her _coronation,_ ” he said, enunciating every word as if speaking to a toddler. “Unless you have proof of your acquaintance, she is not to be disturbed in her preparations.”

“I’m wearing Eli’s cloak,” Kotori pointed out.

The guard’s eyebrows inched closer to his hairline. “I highly doubt the _Lady Seneschal Eli_ would hand articles of clothing out to any common woman.”

Just as Kotori was about to do something she’d regret - scramble over the wall, maybe, or walk all the way out of the city to fly back into a castle filled with people - a familiar voice said, “I’ll vouch for her. Back to your post, I’ll take her up.”

The guard stumbled to the side, then stiffened and saluted Nico. Resplendent in full ceremonial armour, she scowled up at the guard and jerked her chin at Kotori. “Come on, she’s waiting.”

“Oh,” Kotori mumbled, and walked past the guard with a sideways glance. Things were so much easier when you had friends in high circles.

“So? How’d it go?” Nico asked, leading Kotori through the wide grounds of the castle courtyard, then into the keep proper.

“Good,” Kotori said. “But I’m glad I’m back.”

Nico snorted. “Back? You’ve been here once for less than a day.”

“No, back to Eli.”

Nico stopped walking in the middle of a deserted corridor. Folding her arms, she looked Kotori up and down consideringly. This time, unlike their first meeting, Kotori stood tall under her gaze.

“You really like her, don’t you,” muttered Nico.

It stung a little. “Of course I do,” Kotori said.

“You’re sure? She’s not just anyone, you know. She’s the ruler of the country. Are you ready for that?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” Kotori said, lifting her chin, “but I’m sure I want to try. You’re right, she’s not just anyone. She’s- she’s Eli. And that’s why I want to be with her and help her, like she helped me.”

Another long moment of silence. Kotori resisted the urge to shrink. She was proud of everything she’d said, and she wouldn’t run from how she felt.

“Well, damn,” Nico said quietly. She broke into a grin, sudden as a clearing rainfall, and clapped Kotori hard on the shoulder. Kotori squeaked. “Eli did find a good one after all. You better live up to what you said, you know. She’d be lost without me, but maybe you can help a bit.”

“I’ll do my best,” Kotori promised.

“Do that, and more. I’ve got other stuff to do now, so you’re on your own. Her room’s at the end of the corridor.” Nico paused, and casually added, “But just in case you ever hurt her, I’ll break your nose, okay? Nice. See you around, maybe we can grab lunch in a couple days.”

And she was gone, striding off into her territory, leaving Kotori alone.

Kotori giggled to herself. Eli was definitely lucky to have Nico.

Her pace picked up as she got closer to the end of the corridor, until she was less walking and more jogging. Nine blissful days - and this, Eli, was what made Kotori fumble with the handle in her eagerness.

The door opened. Kotori stepped in, and fell just a little harder in love.

Eli was half-turned, caught in surprise. She wore the stiff ceremonial clothes they’d met in, pale blue and black and gold. Her hair was down again; the plain circlet of her station sat on her head, the blue jewel resting perfectly in the middle of her forehead. It was almost as if Kotori had stepped backwards in time to that night so long ago.

It might not be so bad if she had - if she could re-live the golden wonder of their journey together, and fall in love all over again -

Eli said, her breath rushing out of her, “Kotori.” She smiled. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, warm and clear just for Kotori. “Welcome back.”

\- No, Kotori wouldn’t trade this for a hundred days of travel.

“I’m back,” she said; to her surprise, she could feel tears welling up at the corners of her eyes. “I love you too.”

Eli stumbled over a laugh and stepped towards Kotori. The kiss felt like finding a missing puzzle piece, locking in Kotori’s choice: here was where Kotori wanted to be, in Eli’s arms, her hands finding their place on Eli’s waist, Eli’s nose bumping hers in her keenness.

At last, Eli lifted her head from Kotori’s. “You’re just in time,” she said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind to pressure you, but… would you walk with me? For my coronation? Seneschals’ partners are allowed to do that, and, um…”

“Yes,” Kotori said without hesitation. Eli’s answering look of relief and joy prompted her to reach up and kiss Eli again, pressing her lips to Eli’s cheek and the tip of Eli’s nose. It was just as Eli was moving forwards into Kotori’s space again, intent on continuing, that Kotori remembered. “Oh! I have something to show you.”

Eli watched as Kotori rummaged in her bag, bringing out the blue ribbon. Kotori held it out, and said, “I brought you a present. I bought it myself!”

Eli’s mouth fell open the tiniest bit before she chuckled and shook her head. “I appreciate it - but the first thing you buy should always be for yourself.”

“Why’s that?”

“Good luck, to provide for yourself first and foremost. I’d love to wear it later, but you should wear it first. Here, sit down?”

Then Eli’s fingers were in her hair, combing out the worst of the travel tangles. Kotori sighed, tilting back into the touch, letting Eli arrange the ribbon just so.

It was Nico who came to chase them out. “Oi, lovebirds, you’re going to be late to your own coronation,” she snickered.

Eli jumped as if stung, but she took a second to check she hadn’t dislodged the ribbon. Satisfied with her work, she stepped back to hold Kotori at arm’s length. “Beautiful,” she murmured.

“You did say I looked good in your house colours,” Kotori said, to make Eli’s blush match hers.

Nico cleared her throat loudly and for much longer than she strictly needed to. “Gross,” she said. “We need to get going, come on.”

Under Nico’s watchful eye, they hurried to the front of the castle. The crowd’s murmurs carried through even the thick wooden doors.

“You go out that way,” Nico said, motioning at the doors. “I go this way. Wait a minute for me to let the others know, and then come out. Good luck, don’t trip.” And she was off.

Kotori and Eli looked at each other and shared a quiet laugh.

“Together?”

“Together,” Kotori agreed. They placed their hands on the double doors, counted down in hushed whispers, and pushed.

The sunlight blinded Kotori. For a moment, all she could see was their future, stretching golden before them.


End file.
